


Tested to the Limit

by PicassoPickle



Category: Ashes to Ashes (UK TV), Life on Mars & Related Fandoms
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Police Procedural, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PicassoPickle/pseuds/PicassoPickle
Summary: Someone is attacking women from police stations across London and Gene is determined to catch the bastard before Fenchurch East becomes next on his list.
Relationships: Alex Drake/Gene Hunt, Alex Drake/Other(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20





	Tested to the Limit

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! I hope there's people still in this fandom to enjoy my fic. Fun fact, I started this story eight years ago in 2012 and revisited it after rewatching the show. I hope I haven't bastardised the criminal justice system too badly. For the sake of clarity, the finale of series 2 didn't happen, so there was no Operation Rose and Alex never got shot. Please heed the warnings and enjoy.

A paper aeroplane sailed through the air of the CID office. It was a slow crime day, and everyone was positively bored. With nothing but a few amateur muggers getting banged up in the cells this morning, the team were taking the afternoon at a leisurely pace.

Alex was attempting to be productive by getting through the backlog of paperwork that she’d been putting off for some weeks. With the best intentions, Shaz had attempted to help her through the mountains of forms and files but it hadn’t lasted. An hour in, Shaz had gone to make herself a cup of tea and never returned.

Chris and Ray, on the other hand, were not in the mood for paperwork, and were instead plotting how to make the perfect paper aeroplane. It had resulted in many attempts that were currently being chucked from one side of the office to the other with Chris using a measuring tape he’d found in the drawer to tally up the winning plane. So far, from as much as Alex could gather, Ray was taking first place.

Sighing, Alex rested her head in her hand as she gazed towards the Guv’s office.

The shrill sound of his phone ringing filled the air. Waiting with bated breath, she watched as Gene picked it up, talking in his usual gruff tone. A case. There had to be a new case. If not, Alex was _this_ close to burning all the paper planes in this office and marching down to Luigi’s for a strong drink.

The Guv threw the phone back into its cradle unceremoniously and launched himself out of the chair, opening the door to his office just in time to catch one of Ray’s paper planes as it soared past him. Crunching it into a ball, he threw it to the bin before placing his arms on his hips.

“Guv?” Chris asked, sitting up straight eagerly.

“It is believed that the Snow Hill Rapist _bastard_ has struck again,” Guv announced, pursing his lip in disdain.

“The Jacobs Case?” Alex confirmed, checking her notes.

“Yes Drake, the Jacobs case that has now turned into a Jacobs and Fryer Case.”

“But that’s Westie’s problem,” Ray replied, confused.

Everyone had heard about the rape of WPC Kat Jacobs from Snow Hill station. Fenchurch West had been handling this case for nearly a month but as far as Fenchurch East were aware, they’d dredged up no leads and the case had already gone cold.

“They’re handing it over to us? Knew they couldn’t handle it,” Continued Ray chuckling and taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“I believe they couldn’t ‘andle it when the second victim of this bastard’s sordid fantasy turned out to be a WPC from their very own CID,” Gene growled, eyes narrowing as he looked at everyone in the office.

“A serial rapist?” Alex frowned, leaning forward in her chair, “And not just that, but a copper serial rapist?”

“It’s beginning to look like that, isn’t it, Bolly Knickers?” Gene replied as he gazed down at Alex. 

“Blimey.” Chris let out a slow breath.

“How do we know it’s the same man? Could be two rapists out there,” Alex pointed out. Gene turned to her.

“Because, Detective Inspector, the rapist slashed both Jacobs and Fryer across the cheek with a knife, not to mention they’re both coppers. Now, I want you all to be working your arses off to find this scrotum before ‘e strikes for a third time. We don’t want anyone from our own CID to come face to face with this bastard,” Gene announced, eyes flicking between Shaz and Alex.

Shaz gave Alex a worried look, but Alex sent her a soothing smile in return.

“Speaking o’ which,” Gene said, pointing to the two women in the team, “You two are not to be alone _at all times_. Boy Wonder over ‘ere,” He gestured to Chris, “You will escort Shaz home every night and collect her every morning for work. If you bollock this up, you will have hell to pay.”

“Oh, uh, yes Guv.”

“And what about me? Please don’t tell me I get Ray. You know all he’s going to do is stare at my tits,” Alex rolled her eyes at the small “oi!” from Ray.

“No, Bols. You get me.”

“Oh dear God, that’s even worse!”

Whilst her comments were in jest, she knew what the Guv was trying to do. If there really was a serial rapist at large, targeting vulnerable female coppers, then it made complete sense to ensure the safety of the two female officers in CID. If she had to spend an extra few hours with Gene Hunt each week, who was she to complain?

“Like it or lump it, Bols, I’m not budging on this.”

With no argument to be had, Alex stood up and rolled out the whiteboard from behind her. With two rapes to go on, there was an abundance of evidence to collect.

“Okay, so tell me all you’ve got about the first victim,” Alex began, uncapping the dry marker pen. She was in psychologist mode and nothing was going to stop her from finding this rapist before he strikes again.

“’er name is Katherine Jacobs, ‘owever everyone knows her as Kat,” Gene said, before looking up to find Viv coming in with her file.

“Super said you’d be needing this, Guv,” Viv said, passing the files to Gene.

“Cheers, Skip.” He begun to flick through Kat’s file.

“Age?” Alex prompted.

“Thirty-three. Attacked while heading home from work. ‘appened on the 19th November just before midnight. She said the man wore a mask but she saw that ‘e had blue eyes.”

“Blue eyes, got it,” Alex replied, writing it on the board, “Anything else?”

“It were messy. She got a bloody nose and a fractured wrist for ‘er troubles. An’ of course he slashed her across the left cheek.”

“Hmm,” Alex replied, narrowing her eyes.

“Lightbulb appear above your ‘ead?” Gene asked as Alex began to scribble down the details on the board.

“It was a violent rape, more violent than necessary, which indicates a possible anger from the assailant. Many violent rapes occur for some kind of vengeance, usually getting back at another woman,” Alex said as she examined the evidence they got so far.

“You reckon ‘e could be divorced?”

“Either that or he has perhaps recently got out of a bad relationship. Perhaps she cheated on him. Maybe she insulted his bedding skills. Someone who is already mentally unstable could have been driven over the edge by such an insult,” Alex turned back to Gene, “What about the second victim? From Fenchurch West?” She asked.

“WDS Brenda Fryer, aged 35,” Gene read off the file, “She had been on duty visiting witnesses when she was attacked on the way back to ‘er car. We’ll need to bring her in and take a formal statement.”

Shaz looked up from her typewriter, “I met her,” She said, shocked, “She came in a few weeks ago, asking about some files that hadn’t been passed onto their team. She was nice, very pretty.”

There was genuine fear on Shaz’s face, which was completely rational. Any woman was bound to wonder whether it could’ve been them.

“The Guv’ll catch the bastard, Shazzer,” Chris comforted, shooting his girlfriend a small smile, “You won’t have to worry about him for much longer.”

Shaz visibly relaxed as she looked at the Guv with blinding trust.

Uncomfortable, Gene grunted in reply, and headed back into his office to make a phone call to arrange an interview with Fryer.

* * *

WDS Brenda Fryer was able to come in the following day to give her statement about the rape. She arrived looking fragile and pale. Her cheeks were blemished with a purple bruise on one side and a three-inch cut on the other, both of which looked tender and painful. She was guided into an interview room by a plod whilst Alex and Gene stood outside, looking through the window at the poor woman.

“Let me talk to her,” Alex said quietly to Gene, “She looks rattled and I think a female touch might get her to relax. If she’s relaxed and calmer, it’ll make it easier to recall what happened.”

Gene narrowed his eyes, but conceded, “Fifteen minutes.”

Alex entered the room and sat down opposite Brenda, smiling warmly. Beside her she pressed the record button on the tape machine.

“12th December, 10:33am. Currently present: DI Alex Drake and WDS Brenda Fryer,” Alex stated clearly, before glancing up to see Gene snooping through the window. Flashing a quick glare, she turned back to Brenda and sent a small smile to her, hoping it would relax the woman.

“Brenda, I’d like you to tell me as much as possible about the night of the 10th December. Recall everything about what happened before, during and after the attack. Don’t leave anything out, no matter how insignificant you may believe it to be.” Alex glanced at the woman, who was pulling at her sleeves uncomfortably and unable to keep Alex’s gaze for more than a few seconds.

“It were just a normal day. The Guv had told me to go talk to a witness in Haggerston Park, try an’ find out if they had anymore information about a theft. I had driven over there alone and went in to chat to them. It couldn’t ‘ave been more than twenty minutes, an’ I was out again.” Brenda let in a shaky breath and closed her eyes. Her hands trembled and Alex broke the silence.

“What happened when you left the house, Brenda?” She prompted.

Exhaling shakily, Brenda continued, “I ‘ad to park my car in the next street as there were some kind of party going on. There were a pathway connecting the two streets. As I started going down it, I heard a snap of twigs,” Brenda broke off again as she began to wring her wrists, “Someone suddenly jumped out of the bushes, coverin’ me mouth. I couldn’t scream and he was stronger than me. He dragged me into the bushes and started tellin’ me- tellin’ me that I were scum. A slut. A good-for-nothin’ policewoman.”

Tears began to streak down Brenda’s bruised cheeks as she continued, “When I began struggling, he hit me ‘round the face an’ threatened me with a knife to my throat. He then pulled down my skirt an’… r-raped me.”

Alex never found it easy with rape cases. Rape was so much more personal than physical assault and victims were often left utterly traumatised by the ordeal. She could barely even begin to imagine what both Brenda and Kat had been through.

“Did he say anything else? Could you see any of his features?”

Brenda began to shake her head, suddenly looking embarrassed, “I were too caught up in the moment. I was so hysterical I couldn’t pay attention. He wore a mask. Fairly light clothes, I think? Definitely a London accent. Cockney.”

Alex nodded, “That definitely helps us, Brenda. I know this will be difficult for you, but can you remember much about the rape? Anything you do remember may really help our case.”

“It felt like it lasted forever,” Brenda said, “But I know how long it took, roughly. I know I left the house around one-thirty, and I was back in my car my ten to two.”

“So he raped you for around twenty minutes,” Brenda nodded, “What would you say his emotions were like?”

Brenda’s eyes looked haunted as she thought back to that fateful day, “Angry. So angry. He continued to insult me throughout it, tellin’ me I was worthless.”

“Other than when he hit you across the face, was he physically violent in any other way?”

“No, only when he threatened me with the knife.”

“Can you remember much about the knife? How big it was? The handle, perhaps?”

“It weren’t too big. Bigger than a pocketknife by a couple of inches. The handle were black, but I don’t remember the make of it. Just looked like an average kitchen knife.”

“And before the attack, you didn’t notice any cars following you to Haggerston Park? Nothing suspicious?”

Brenda shook her head, sniffing, “Nah, didn’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary.”

Alex reviewed her notes and eyed the clock. Her fifteen minutes were up, and she’d exhausted all questions she’d planned to ask, “Ok, let’s leave it there, shall we? Thank you so much for your time, Brenda.”

The interview came to an end, and Alex left Brenda in Shaz’s care, who brought her tea and a couple of biscuits. Alex came face to face with Gene as soon as she stepped out of the interview room.

“Well?” He demanded, looking expectant.

Alex strolled with him back to the whiteboard by her desk, armed with the information of the two current victims, “I was right in saying that he’s angry about something. Brenda emphasised that he was angry, which correlates with the fact that he uses derogatory language with the women, calling them ‘worthless’ or ‘sluts’.”

“Right, got anythin’ else to ‘elp us?”

“What is clear is that he is clearly following his victims, probably all the way from the police stations. He therefore must have a car which would’ve been parked nearby when both the victims were attacked. It’s unlikely he would’ve just hailed a cab to follow Brenda all the way from Fenchurch to Haggerston Park, just too risky.”

Gene turned to Ray and Chris, who had been busy throwing pencils at each other, “Oi, Raymondo and Wonder Chris. Get down to Haggerston Park and find out if anyone saw a suspicious man or a suspicious car parked in the area.” The two men jumped to their feet with meek “yes Guv’s” before leaving.

Alex watched as they left, before turning back to the board, “This rape was far less violent than Kat Jacobs’. Kat ended up with a bloody nose and a fractured wrist. There were also cut marks along her throat from where he’d been holding the knife too long on her neck. Brenda got away with the signature slash to her cheek and a few slaps.”

“Why would ‘e get less violent?”

“Maybe he’s getting less angry. Maybe he’s being more careful. He could’ve killed Kat with a slip of the hand, and maybe he realised that. He doesn’t want to get done for murder, after all.”

“Anythin’ else, Bolly?”

“Kat was attacked from behind, Brenda was attacked from the bushes. He perhaps isn’t that strong, otherwise he’d attack from the front,” Alex suggested.

“These are trained police officers, Bolly, with self-defence training and to apprehend suspects. He knows they could be able to outrun him or overpower him if he tries getting them from the front.”

Alex sighed and stared at the board. There was a map that marked the two areas in which the attacks had occurred.

“So. We have no leads,” Gene finally concluded.

“Unless Ray and Chris find something. Which is unlikely as there was a party or some kind of gathering at the same time as Kat’s rape.”

“Risky for the rapist,” Gene frowned, “If there were so many people around an’ he just pulled her into the bushes.”

Alex nodded, “True, but Brenda didn’t recall anyone outside, just that there were a lot of cars. As it’s winter, it’s unlikely there’d be many people who would be able to witness it.”

“Looks like we’re gonna ‘ave to think and try an’ find some leads,” Gene finally concluded with a heavy sigh. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

That Friday they were no closer to catching the rapist. With no fresh leads and no witnesses, there was a definite feeling of hopelessness in the CID. As five o’clock ticked round, there was a rush for everyone to go out for drinks to clear their head from the case. Gene escorted her back to Luigi’s so that she could freshen up and change into some clean clothes. She left the Guv outside her flat as she added a bit of lippy and did her hair, before squeezing herself into a new dress that she knew Gene would make a sordid comment about.

Satisfied, she grabbed her purse and exited the flat. She could feel the Guv’s eyes on her, drinking in her latest outfit. It was nothing too skimpy, but it showed enough leg to give Gene something to look at. 

“Scrub up well as always, Bols,” Gene said. Alex glowed at the compliment before letting herself be escorted down the stairs towards the restaurant.

It hadn’t escaped her notice how close Gene had been getting to her since the announcement of the second rape. Every morning he would pick her up from work in the Quattro and drop her off home again late into the evening. He’d always accompanied her when they went to see a witness or a crime scene. Whilst she knew the reasoning behind it, it was starting to get a bit irritating that she couldn’t just walk herself to the shops or slip out at five o’clock without Gene by her side.

Once they reached the bottom steps, Alex followed Gene to the bar where they ordered Luigi’s cheap plonk. Luigi smiled widely at them both.

“Ah signorina, you look bellissimo tonight!”

Alex smiled back, taking her glass of red wine and taking a sip from it. She noticed Gene looking at her.

“What?” She asked, looking down at her outfit, “Is it my dress? Thought I’d try something new.”

“It’s bloody December, woman,” Gene said, also taking a glug of the wine, “’ow’re you not cold?” He gave her one last look up and down, before taking his wine glass and sauntering away to find the lads.

The night managed to relax the team from the thoughts of work. At some point Chris managed to hijack Luigi’s cassette player, leading to an abundance of Christmas songs to get everyone in the festive spirit. It wasn’t long before the whole restaurant was singing Slade at the top of their lungs.

Everyone had probably had one too many drinks by the end of the night. Alex was giggling merrily as Ray and Chris slung their arms around each other, slurring strange compliments at one another. Gene was sat beside her, nursing a beer. He appeared to be the only one handling his drink – Alex hadn’t seen him knock back as many glasses of wine as usual.

“You a’right Bols?” Gene shouted over the music, and she nodded, “We should get yer ‘ome. You’re drunk.”

Alex giggled, but allowed Gene to pull her up from the chair. Any more glasses and she may start saying things she’d regret. Gene escorted her out of the restaurant and up the stairs towards her flat.

Gene paused in the corridor outside her door, checking his surroundings, before taking the key from Alex’s shaking hands and unlocking the door. She staggered in first, with Gene following behind.

“Y’didn’t need to come with me,” Alex said as Gene headed into the kitchen. He got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with tap water before pressing it into Alex’s hands.

“Can’t be too careful right now, Lady B.”

Ah, yes. For a few hours Alex had forgotten there was a serial rapist on the loose, and just thought Gene was being a chivalrous gentleman escorting her home safely.

“Anywho, you’re pissed as a fart. Off to bed with yer.”

“You could always stay the night?” Alex said, and there were a few long seconds as she watched Gene’s face change to a look of disbelief that she realised how that sounded.

“Not sure you’d appreciate my stamina right now, judging by the state of yer.”

Flushing, Alex shook her head, “I didn’t mean it like _that_. On the sofa, I meant. It’s late.”

Gene’s eyes twinkled, and she realised that he’d known exactly what she meant all along, “Just teasin’ yer, Bols. But don’t worry ‘bout me, I’ll head home. Try not to puke in yer sleep, eh? See you Monday.”

Pouting, Alex tried not to feel disappointment at the blatant rejection – even if had only been for a kip on the sofa. She bid Gene goodnight before heading straight to bed. Collapsing on the crimson sheets, she was asleep in seconds.

* * *

Before Alex knew it, Christmas had crept up on Alex. It was strange, spending a second Christmas in the 1980s. She usually loved the festive period, but it was just too different without Molly by her side. They would decorate the tree together and watch cheesy Christmas movies in front of the telly in the lead up to the big day. For Christmas Day Alex would invite the Drakes - minus Pete - and Evan over to celebrate. They would all spoil Molly rotten with gifts before pigging out on a turkey that was far too big for the five of them.

Alex’s first Christmas in 1981 had been depressing to say the least. She had tried to treat it as any other day, but it was hard to ignore the fact that she was spending her first ever Christmas away from her daughter. It had taken her until the mid-afternoon before she’d drowned her sorrows in a bottle of wine. By seven o’clock and a couple of bottles of wine later, she’d passed out on the sofa and not woken until Boxing Day.

This year, Alex was determined to be better. The only issue was that Christmas was all about family, and she was alone in this world. She’d thought of treating it as a normal working day and head into the office but Gene had quickly shot the idea down when she’d brought it up.

“No bloody way are any of my team coming ‘ere for Christmas,” Gene had said to her as she perched on his desk, “You need to learn to switch off, woman.”

Filled with dread, Alex had tried to plead with the Guv, but he hadn’t budged.

Now it was Christmas Eve and the CID were playing Christmas tunes in the office. Chris and Shaz were going to be spending Christmas Day together, their second year as boyfriend and girlfriend. Alex wasn’t entirely sure what Ray had planned, only that it involved a very ‘fit bird’ that he’d met the previous week.

It was the end of the day and everyone was starting to head home. Shaz and Chris passed Alex’s desk on the way out.

“Merry Christmas, ma’am. Have you got much planned?” Shaz asked as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Shaz. And no, nothing planned. Just a quiet day, I think.” From behind Shaz she saw Gene watching her from the doorway of his office.

“Oh, well that sounds nice. Be good to have a bit of peace after such a mad year, eh? I’ll see you in a few days.”

Alex smiled tightly as she watched everyone leave, leaving just herself and the Guv.

“Ready to go home?” Gene asked, stubbing out his final cigarette for the working day.

Alex nodded, slipping on her coat. They headed downstairs and into the Quattro, tyres squealing on the tarmac as soon as the engine fired up.

Once they’d arrived back at Luigi’s, Alex turned to Gene. Since he’d been driving her home, he would stay in the car and wait until she was safe and sound inside before driving off. It was nice of him to care like that.

“Merry Christmas, Guv. Have a good one.”

“And you, Bols.”

With that, she exited the car and headed into the restaurant and up to her flat, alone.

* * *

Waking up alone on Christmas Day was up there on Alex’s top ten shittiest moments of her life. It was well past nine o’clock and she was in no hurry to get up and get dressed. The flat was too quiet today. She longed to see Molly, even if it was just an apparition drawn up by her imagination. It had been months since she’d last seen her daughter in this world and she was terrified of forgetting her face.

Swallowing down a sob, she clambered out of bed to get on with her day. She made herself breakfast for one, got washed and dressed then turned on the telly to fill the silence.

It was just before midday when Alex heard a pounding on her door. Jumping out of her skin, she turned off the TV and looked through the peephole. Gene Hunt’s face filled the view. Surprised, she unlocked the door and opened it wide, allowing her DCI to enter.

“Merry Christmas, Bolly Knickers,” He announced as he sauntered into the flat.

“Guv! What are you doing here?”

“Little birdy told me you ‘ad no plans today. It just so ‘appens that the Gene Genie also does not ‘ave any plans. So I figured, ‘ow about we ‘ave no plans together?”

It was certainly better than sitting alone in her flat all day. She smiled gratefully and watched as Gene headed into the kitchen. He placed a brimming bag on the worktop.

“What’s all this then?” She asked.

“Can’t ‘ave Christmas without food and booze. Got ourselves a chicken to roast and a few bottles of bubbly for dessert.”

Alex stared at him, stunned.

“Are you telling me Gene Hunt is going to cook me Christmas dinner?”

“Not promising it will be good, mind.”

Alex laughed. They got to work unpacking the contents of the bag. They worked together cooking the chicken along with the potatoes, carrots, brussels sprouts and stuffing. It felt strange to be with Gene in such a domestic situation, but Alex found herself quite enjoying herself. They cracked open the first bottle of bubbly as they served up Christmas lunch.

Just as they were sitting down to eat, Gene’s eyes widened, “Oh ‘ang about. Forgot something.”

He went back to the kitchen and pulled out a couple of Christmas crackers from the bag. Alex’s eyes lit up with joy.

“Right then, shall we?” She asked as they both took a cracker and pulled until they both burst open. Alex fished out a red paper hat from inside the cracker and placed it on her head before grabbing the joke and trinket. She got a mini notepad in hers, whilst Gene’s was a bottle opener.

“How very fitting!” She clapped her hands together with joy before reading out the joke, “What’s a dog’s favourite carol?” She paused for suspense, “ _Bark_ , the herald’s angels sing.” They both groaned.

“Ha bloody ha. Alright, ‘ere’s mine. What do elves do after school? Their _gnome_ -work. Bloody Christ, I can’t stand these.”

Alex cackled at Gene’s scrooge-iness. She reckoned neither of them were hating the day as much as they thought they would.

After Christmas lunch they settled themselves onto the sofa with full glasses of bubbly. Today felt different to a usual evening of drinking. The small spark that usually prickled between them had ignited into something more heated.

At some point they’d drifted closer together. Gene’s arm hung along the back of the sofa and Alex was leaning with rapt attention as he told the story of how he’d nearly been executed in a hostage situation back in Manchester with Sam Tyler. Alex had heard bits of the story before – she’d even met Jackie Queen that very year – but this was straight from the horse’s mouth.

“What did you think, in those final moments? When you thought you were going to be shot?” Alex whispered. They were very close. So close that she could feel Gene’s breath on her cheek.

“I ‘ad a lot of thoughts,” Gene said, eyes flickering between Alex’s eyes and lips, “I thought about what would ‘appen to my team without me. I thought about ‘ow I was letting them all down.”

“Gene Hunt. Always putting the team first. You’re a good man, Guv.”

“What about you, Bolly Kecks? Any near-death experiences?”

Alex couldn’t help but laugh at the bloody irony. How could she possibly explain that she was most likely on the brink of death right now? Somewhere out there she was lying in a hospital bed, fighting to wake up from a coma. Perhaps she could mince the truth a bit.

“Well, you already know about a couple. Being locked in a freezer with concussion is definitely up there in the list,” She took a sip of drink from the champagne flute, “There was this time I was taken hostage by a madman. He had been threatening a member of the public and I stepped in to try and calm the situation down. He turned his gun on me.”

“Then what?”

“Luckily, I managed to get away, and I thought it was over,” She decided to avoid mentioning Molly’s part in the story, “But later in the day I got into my car and he was there, sat behind my seat. He pointed a gun at me and told me to drive down to the docks.”

“Bloody ‘ell, what did this bastard want?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever know. He led me into a disused ferry, and I tried to negotiate with him.”

“Can’t negotiate with loopy bastards like that.”

Alex huffed out a laugh, rubbing away the phantom pain on her forehead.

“For once, I think you’re right. I didn’t even see it coming. The bullet.”

“You were shot?!” Gene exclaimed, his blue eyes widening a fraction.

Alex knew she’d have to twist the story now, “I was shot _at_. Luckily he missed and scarpered.”

“Blimey, that were a close call. So what ‘bout you, Bols? Life flash before your eyes?”

“A little bit. I thought of my parents. I thought of a tall, dark and handsome stranger who had saved me the day they’d died,” _You, Gene Hunt, I thought about you._

“Handsome, eh? Better not be more handsome than yours truly.”

_Oh, the irony of it all_.

“Not even close,” She whispered. At some point her hand had travelled to his knee. Something shifted in the atmosphere.

Gene’s piercing blue eyes met hers before drifting down to her lips. Heart hammering in her chest, Alex silently dared him to pull away.

He didn’t. There was a moment where neither of them moved, and then he leaned forward, and she met him halfway. Their lips connected. Gene’s hand moved to cup her cheek, bringing her body closer to his. She tasted nicotine and booze as the kiss deepened.

She tangled her hands into his hair and they briefly parted, panting for breath. In less than a second, their lips locked again and suddenly their hands were all over each other. Their kisses became more desperate.

“This ok?” Gene whispered between kisses.

“More than ok,” Alex responded, pressing her forehead against his as she began to unbutton his shirt. She was glad neither of them had too much to drink; their heads were clear enough to know the decision they were making. A decision that could change everything.

“Bedroom,” Gene growled, voice husky, and Alex nodded eagerly.

With one last heated kiss, she peeled back Gene’s shirt before they both tumbled into the bedroom in a tangle of limbs.

* * *

When Alex opened her eyes, she was well aware of the heavy presence of someone else in her bed. It only took a her a second to recollect the night of passion she and Gene Hunt had enjoyed the previous day. A smile unwittingly bloomed on her features as she slowly turned to see Gene’s slumbering form. They were both naked. In her bed.

_We slept together_ , she thought, not quite believing it had actually happened. She felt like a teenager again, when she’d first lost her virginity to Andrew Miller in sixth form. She’d been head over the heels in love with that boy. Quelling the butterflies in her stomach, Alex propped herself up on her elbow and watched the Gene Genie as he slept.

A few minutes later the man stirred. Squinting at the sunlight from the gap in the curtains, Alex could see the cogs turning inside that brain of his as he took in the surroundings. His eyes fell on Alex and she watched his body relax back into the mattress.

“Mornin’ Bols.”

“A very good morning to you.”

There was a twinkle in his eye as he leaned across to the bedside table and grabbed his cigarettes, immediately lighting one and taking a puff. Wrinkling her nose, Alex decided she knew exactly what Gene looked like: the cat who had got the cream. Smug bastard.

She’d begun to wonder whether this would change things. Gene didn’t seem the type to talk about relationships, and Alex wasn’t keen on broaching the topic just yet. Were they now an item? Or had it just been a Christmas fling? A relationship in the office would change their entire dynamic, and she wasn’t sure whether it would be for the better. God forbid if Gene developed feelings for her, she may end up being wrapped in cotton wool and put in desk duty.

For now, she decided to just enjoy it. Gene wrapped his arms around Alex’s shoulders and tugged him into a cuddle. A _cuddle_. This was just getting bizarre, but who was she to complain? Smiling fondly, she rested her head on his chest as he finished his cigarette, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

They didn’t speak much as they finally begun to get ready for work. They took it in turns using the bathroom to wash and dress before meeting back at the front door. Taking in a deep breath, Alex prepared herself for another day.

* * *

Turns out there hadn’t been much crime over Christmas and into Boxing Day. Alex spent the day focusing on gathering more evidence on the recent rape cases. She trawled through the two statements given by Jacobs and Fryer, hoping that re-reads would bring out a magical new lead.

The day had been unsuccessful, and her mood only soured further when Gene begun to give her the cold shoulder at work. Every time she had tried to speak to him about the case, he’d palmed her off or outright insulted her in front of her colleagues.

“Could you give it a rest, woman?” Gene had publicly exclaimed when Alex had asked him about a mislaid piece of evidence from the Jacobs crime scene, “Do you need yer hand holdin’ every time something goes wrong? I don’t ‘ave the bloody evidence so use yer noggin and think for yer bloody self for once.”

Confused and hurt, she wondered whether this was just the Manc Lion trying to put everyone else off the scent of the previous night’s events. She had glared at the Guv with a look of disdain before storming out of the office and hiding herself in the ladies for half an hour.

By the time it was time to go home, Alex had been quietly seething at her desk. When Gene finally grabbed his coat to leave, she said nothing to him as they walked down to the car.

She slumped down into the passenger’s seat, slamming the door of the Quattro with more force than was strictly necessary.

“Watch the bloody Quattro, woman? What the ‘ell crawled into your knickers and died?”

Alex glared at him, “You belittled me in front of everyone today. What the hell did I do to deserve that? Just because you slept with me last night doesn’t mean you can start speaking to me however you bloody like!”

“Give over, don’t even think you’re going to start receiving special treatment from the Gene Genie because you wiggle your arse in my direction. I’m the Guv ‘round here and I will be treatin’ you like everyone else.”

“You don’t humiliate Chris or Ray when they ask a simple question.”

“Get off yer high horse,” Gene growled as he fired up the Quattro and sped away from the station, “I am your superior officer and will speak to you within the walls of CID how the bloody ‘ell I like. Clear?”

Alex decided not to dignify that with a response. She folded her arms across her chest and silently fumed all the way back to Luigi’s. They were meant to be having some post-Christmas drinks with the team but she was no longer in the mood. As soon as Gene pulled up outside the restaurant, she got out of the car as quickly as possible and marched up the stairs to her flat, ignoring Gene’s calls from behind her.

* * *

The next rape was two days after the events of Boxing Day. Alex and Gene still weren’t properly talking, and the rest of the team knew about it. There had been more shouting matches in the past couple of the days than in the last six months.

Alex woke early to the pounding of her door. Blearily checking her clock, it blared back 6:43AM. Groaning she crawled out of bed and checked the peephole before opening it.

“There’s been another rape,” Gene said.

Time to be professional about this, this was no time for petty arguments.

“I’ll get dressed. Who’s it now?” Alex disappeared into the bedroom, hastily dressing whilst Gene let himself into her flat. She saw his shadow pass beneath her bedroom door.

“WDC Melissa Patel from Southwark,” He said from the other side of the door, “Attacked after leaving a club when she was split up from her friends.”

Zipping up her boots, Alex flung open the door and then walked to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She’d left the door open, so Gene leant against the frame. Alex watched him curiously in the mirror as she began to brush. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, looking weary. The case was starting to get to them all.

“What nightclub was she at?” She asked after she’d spit and rinsed her mouth out. Grabbing her keys she followed Gene out of her flat and into the Quattro.

“Mystique in Southwark. Plods ‘ave cordoned off the area and are searchin’ for evidence.”

Alex and Gene arrived back at CID and although it was early, Gene had clearly phoned the rest of the team to get their arses in pronto. The room was buzzing with activity. Alex wheeled out her whiteboard and wrote Melissa Patel’s name in block capitals beneath the other two girls’ names. She added all the evidence she had, crossed an X on the map where the rape had occurred.

Leaning back against her desk, Alex studied the board.

“We could try geographically profiling,” Alex suggested, which returned a bunch of confused faces. She elaborated, “It’s where you are able to guess where a serial-criminal lives by mapping out every place a victim has been attacked. More often than not, the criminal lives somewhere in the centre of all these attacks.”

Chris peered at the map, “But that still wouldn’t narrow it down. That’s practically the centre of London.” He pointed out, placing his finger on the centre of the three attacks.

“It’s still a start,” Alex sighed, knowing it was nearly hopeless. She drew a black circle in the centre of all the crimes.

There was a lull as they all gazed at the board in defeat.

“She was off-duty,” Alex hummed, staring at Melissa’s name that she’d scrawled, “Which must mean the rapist had been following her for some time. We need to question everyone Melissa has been with for past week, see if anyone spotted anything suspicious.”

“Christ, Bols, that’s a bloody stretch, in’t it?”

“What more can we do? Lock up every female police officer in the Greater London district so he doesn’t strike again? He’s clever, he’s angry and he’s getting better. Usually serial offenders start tripping up or getting cocky, but he’s being careful about this. He is determined not to get caught.” Alex turned to the Guv, “When do we get to question her?”

“Later. She’s bein’ checked up in ‘ospital. Just need to wait for the docs to give us the all clear to come in.”

* * *

A couple of hours later and Gene received the go-ahead from the doctor that was treating Melissa that they could take her statement. The pair headed out.

After they parked up at the hospital and having to listen to Gene’s cursing the “bloody astronomic parking charges”, they headed into the building and were pointed in the direction of the ward Melissa was staying on.

Drawing back the curtains, Alex assessed Melissa. She was only 27-years old, with long black hair that was swept back into a plait. There was the tell-tale slash on her cheek and her lip was split. Similar to the previous victim, she had fewer bruises and cuts on her body than Katherine Jacobs, but her eyes still held that haunted look that Alex saw on almost every rape victim. Pulling up a chair, Alex smiled at her warmly.

“Hi Melissa, my name is DI Alex Drake and this is DCI Gene Hunt.”

Melissa eyed the two of them warily, rubbing at her arms nervously, “I’ve heard of you, Mr Hunt,” She begun, “You’ve got quite the reputation in according to my station.”

Gene puffed out his chest in pride whilst Alex rolled her eyes and muttered “ _Give me strength_ ” under her breath. She really didn’t need his ego stroking at a time like this.

“Always a pleasure to meet a fan,” He said proudly, “’Owever we’re not ‘ere to talk about me, love.”

“How about you start from the beginning, Melissa?” Alex started, pulling out her notepad, “You went to a club with some friends?”

“Yeah, I did. It was just me and three other mates. We’d been drinking at my flat. Celebrating Christmas together, y’know? And we decided to hit up the Mystique club in Southwark. It was pretty busy and we were a bit drunk. Bouncers let us in and we had a good dance.”

“What time did you enter the club, Melissa?” Alex asked.

“Oh, about midnight, I think.”

“Then what ‘appened?” Gene questioned.

Melissa let out a shaky breath and averted her gaze down to her hands in her lap, “I’d gone to the loo but I’d lost my friends. We’d been talking about going home.”

“What time was this?”

“’Bout twoish. I couldn’t see them on the dancefloor so figured they must’ve gone outside and were waiting for me. So out I went. They weren’t on the street but I know Julia, one of my mates, the drink often gets the better of her. I thought she might’ve been puking round the back, in the alley. It was dumb of me, I should’ve been thinking straight, but it was late and I’d had too many drinks to be proper thinking.”

“So you went around the back of the club?” Alex confirmed, scribbling down her notes.

“Yeah, and I thought I heard someone so I kept walking. Then suddenly there were footsteps behind me. I spun around, expecting my mates, but… but it…” Melissa choked off, eyes filling with tears. She wiped them with the back of her hand and sniffed, “It was him.”

“What did he do, Melissa?”

“He had a knife and I knew immediately this was that bloke everyone had been talking about. I knew what was about to happen. He told me to get against the wall or he’d cut my throat. Then he… he pulled down my tights and… he raped me behind the bins. I could hear people out on the street and I knew if I screamed someone would come. But I didn’t. I didn’t make a sound. I thought he was gonna kill me.”

“It’s ok, Melissa. He had a knife and he threatened you with it. You couldn’t have screamed,” Alex soothed, “Is there anything significant you remember about the assailant? What was he wearing?”

“I dunno,” Melissa hesitated, “It was dark, but I think he was wearing white. He covered his face with a scarf so I couldn’t see much. I couldn’t even tell you what colour his eyes were.”

There was a long pause as Alex glanced at Gene, who was being uncharacteristically quiet. These rape cases were starting to get to everyone, but most of all Gene. There was a bastard on his patch, sexually assaulting fellow coppers, and it was only a matter of time before he strikes again. Alex wondered whether his shitty behaviour from the last few days was the Guv projecting his anger from the case.

“There was something else,” Melissa suddenly said, pulling Alex away from her thoughts, “When he had the knife by my cheek. His hands, they smelled so strong.”

“Strong? What did they smell like?” Hope flourished in Alex’s heart, hope for a new lead that might take them straight to the rapist.

“Onions,” Melissa looked embarrassed to say, “So bloody strong. Like he’d been bathing in them. It was making my eyes water it were that strong!”

Onions. Alex makes a note of it.

“What about his breath? Must’ve been pretty pungent if it was on his hands?”

“Oh, no DI Drake. His mouth was mostly covered but I didn’t get a whiff of onions from his breath.”

Interesting.

“Ok, thanks Melissa. Just one last question before we leave you to it. Did you see anyone suspicious in the days leading up to the attack? Any cars tailing you or men watching from afar?”

Melissa chewed her bottom lip and frowned, before shaking her head, “Nah, I didn’t see anyone. He must’ve followed me to the club but I didn’t see him.”

Alex nodded and stood up. She reached over and squeezed Melissa’s hand before drawing back the curtains and departing with the very quiet Guv’nor.

As they got back into the Quattro, he turned to her, “I don’t like it. This bastard knows exactly when to strike and knows exactly who he’s goin’ for.”

“What about the crime scene?” Alex mused aloud, “They might’ve found something.”

“We’ll ‘ave to wait and see,” He eyed Alex up and down, “This scrotum is targeting different stations each time. It’s only a matter of time before he puts Fenchurch East on his to-do list.”

The case was rattling Gene. And when the Guv was scared, he turned that fear into anger. Alex sighed.

“Yes, we could be one big fat target to him. And you’re scared, I get that. We all are. But from now on, please stop arguing with me at every twist and turn about this case because I can’t deal with it anymore. Just because we slept together doesn’t mean I’m your fair maiden in need of protection. You need to let me do your job.”

Gene stared at her in surprise, “Where the ‘ell did that come from?”

“Pent up rage, Guv. If we’re going to crack this case, we’re going to need to work together. Forget we shagged and focus on getting the bastard before he strikes again.”

To Alex’s immense surprise, Gene was nodding, “Fair enough, Bols. We’ll get ‘im.”

“Besides,” Alex said with a sparkle in her eye, “We do have somewhat a new lead.”

“Eh? And what’s that then?”

Alex smiled.

“Onions.”

* * *

Back at CID, Alex pulled out her favourite whiteboard. Below Melissa’s name, she scribbled down a few more facts:

  * Smell of onions
  * Off-duty
  * White clothing



“Anything from the crime scene?” Alex asked, popping the cap back on the dry marker pen.

Ray took a drag from his cigarette and shook his head, “Nah. No prints to dust and not a single footprint either.” Everyone groaned in disappointment

“I have a theory,” Alex said, looking back at her board.

“Oh goodie, I do love a theory,” Gene crossed his arms across his shoulders, looking at the board grimly.

“Melissa told us he was wearing white and smelled of onions. Whilst it’s possible he cooked himself a curry the night he raped her, Melissa was pretty adamant that his breath didn’t have a trace of onion on it.”

“Your point?”

“My point, Guv, is who smells of food on their hands but not on their breath?” There was a long pause as the rest of CID stared at her gormlessly.

“Uh, a greengrocer?” Chris guessed.

“Greengrocers don’t chop up their produce, do they, Chris? Any other takers?”

Silence. And then.

“A chef, ma’am?” Shaz piped up from her desk.

“Yes, a chef!” Alex uncapped the pen and wrote **CHEF** in bold capitals in the centre of the board.

“Right, so our bastard rapist might be a chef. Lot of chefs in London, Bols. How we narrowing that down?”

Alex’s smile fell from her face. She hadn’t got that far.

“Melissa was raped just after two in the morning. Most kitchens close for the night at, what? Eleven? Eleven-thirty? But Melissa told us that she entered the club in Southwark at around midnight. So that doesn’t give the rapist much of a chance to travel far from his place of work to tail Melissa from her flat and watch her enter the club.”

“All well and good, Bols,” Gene said, “But don’t forget that we know ‘e owns a car. There is no bloody way he is following these women on foot. He could get across half of London in an hour.”

Frustrated, Alex knew the Guv was right. It was a good theory if he’d travelled by foot, but when a car was in the play there was no telling where he’d come from.

“Still a lead, Guv. We should check records for any men in the past ten years who have been arrested who have their occupation down as a chef. We need to get alibis for the lot of them. Then we need to interview witnesses who were at the club last night. Did anyone see anything suspicious? A parked car?”

“You ‘eard the woman. Christopher, Raymundo, get to it! Chop, bloody, chop!” Gene smacked his hands together and the two men scrambled up to get arrest records. It was no small job. What Alex would give for a computer with a functioning database. In 2008 she could pull every record for what they were after in a click of a few buttons. Chris and Ray would be at the records for days.

Alex sank back down into her chair, staring at the three witness statements in her hands. She still felt as though she was missing something important. Before she could start grilling the statements letter by letter, she was suddenly aware of a presence at her desk. Looking up, she saw Shaz standing there, cradling her mug of tea in her hands.

“Ma’am? Can I have a word with you?”

Alex took in her demeanour. Her hands were gripping the mug so tightly her knuckles were turning white, her face was pale, and her eyes kept darting towards the door. Alex had been so consumed by the rape case that it had been a while since she’d properly spoken to Shaz.

“Sure, of course. C’mon.”

Alex stood from her desk and they walked to the empty kitchenette. Sitting at the small table, she waited for the WPC to speak.

“It’s just…” Shaz hesitated, “I’m struggling to sleep. These rapes, I can’t stop thinkin’ about them. Chris is a babe, walking me home and all, but when I’m at home I just keep wonderin’ what’d happen if this rapist bloke knocks on me door. I’m sleeping with a cricket bat in my bed, ma’am. That’s not normal, is it?”

“Oh, Shaz,” Alex reached over and placed a comforting hand on her arm, “I didn’t realise you were so worried. Sometimes I get so caught up trying to solve the case that I didn’t stop to think about you. Have you got a spare bed? Or a sofa? Maybe having Chris staying overnight will help ease your worries.”

Shaz blushed, “Oh, I dunno. I think Chris might get the wrong end of the stick.”

“I could pull rank on him if you like,” Alex smiled cheekily, “Tell him it’s his duty to stay overnight for the foreseeable.”

“Would you, ma’am? I’m not ready to ask him to stay over, not like _that_ , anyways. If he thinks he has to, it would make me feel an awful lot better, y’know?”

“Consider it done.”

And with that promise, Alex stood and wandered into the Guv’s lair. Gene was sat at his desk, cigarette poised between his two fingers. Closing the door behind her, Alex slipped her hands into her back pockets.

“What?”

“Shaz is scared, Guv. I told her I would make sure Chris is staying the night in her flat until we catch the bastard.”

Gene took a puff from his cigarette and blew smoke out of his nostrils.

“You should be scared an’ all,” He said, eyeing her curiously, “He won’t stop just ‘cos you’re a DI.”

“Perhaps I should be, but I live above Luigi’s. He’d have to show his face at the restaurant before heading upstairs and I don’t think he’d risk it. Shaz lives in a quiet part of town and Chris being there will really help her out.”

The Guv hummed in agreement, “If it ‘elps Shaz sleep at night then by all means. As long as Christopher ain’t slipping her one.”

Alex shot him a look of disgust and went to turn on her heel.

“Bols?” Guv stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and Alex stopped turning back to him, “Jokin’ aside, if you ever need the Gene Genie to stay, you only need to ask.”

Alex could tell he wasn’t saying it to try and get back into her bed. She nodded silently before opening the door and heading back to her desk, just as Ray and Chris entered the office with arms full of paperwork.

“Christopher!” She heard Gene bellow from the depths of his office, “From tonight you are sleepin’ at Shaz’s until we nail this rapist bastard. No funny business, alright?”

Chris looked a little bit like a deer caught in the headlights as he looked between the Guv and Shaz.

“Ah, stayin’ at Shaz’s, guv? Yeah, I, uh, yeah I can do that. Shaz, that a’right with you, babe?”

Shaz smiled, sharing a knowing look with Alex, “Course it is, Chris. Can’t wait.”

A blush that had blossomed from Chris’s neck shot to his cheeks in record speed. Alex giggled as she watched him make his way back to his desk, looking a little dumbstruck. Ah, young love.

By the end of the day, after an exhausting number of hours interviewing punters from the nightclub as poring over old casefiles, Shaz and Chris got up to leave. As Shaz slipped on her coat, she appeared at Alex’s desk and whispered a quiet “Thank you, ma’am” before looping her arm through Chris’s and leaving for the night.

An hour later, Gene stood at her desk and it was their cue to leave for Luigi’s.

“New Year’s Eve tomorrow, Bols,” The Guv said as they entered the Quattro, “Would be bloody nice to catch the bastard before 1983.”

Alex couldn’t help but agree.

* * *

New Year’s came and went without much fanfare. The team at CID spent the night in Luigi’s, getting merrily pissed. By midnight, Chris and Shaz were quietly snogging in the corner, Ray and Viv were drunkenly talking about footie and Alex and Gene were at the bar, watching over the team with fond eyes.

The clock struck twelve and the DCI and DI clinked their champagne flutes together. Gene leant in and pecked Alex on the cheek. No nights of passion tonight, not with the team around.

“’Appy new year, Bols,” He said and they drank to that.

* * *

January of 1983 was possibly the greyest and bleakest of Januarys that Alex had lived in. Even the criminals stayed quiet than usual. The CID were still trying desperately to gather some leads on the serial rapist. They had pulled all three victims back in for second rounds of questioning, but it had led them nowhere.

Any suspects Chris and Ray had gathered from looking into old chef convicts seemed to be a dead end. Anyone they pulled in had watertight alibis for at least one of the three nights the rapes occurred.

It was the end of January by the time they got a fresh new lead. Alex had been sure there was a significance between how violent the first crime was versus the second two, but it was only after looking through case files of old rapes in the area that she had stumbled across it.

WDC Harriet West in 1981. Brutally raped and murdered, aged only twenty-two. She hadn’t even been on the job a year when it happened. Alex stared down at the black and white morgue photo of the young girl. Her mousey brown hair was around shoulder length, her face was beaten black and blue and down her left cheek was a rough and jagged scar. The girl had worked at Bishopsgate police station, but the investigating officer had been at Brick Lane. No one had connected the dots in over a year.

Closing Harriet’s file, Alex marched straight into Gene’s office and threw it down in front of him.

“I knew something didn’t feel right about these rapes. They started off so angry, so brutal. He fractured Kat Jacobs’ wrist, but the other two girls barely had a scratch on them. Why? What was he being so careful about?”

“What are you blabbing on about, woman?” Gene asked, eyes not diverting from hers.

Alex pressed her index finger onto the file in front of him.

“Our rapist murdered a woman in September of 1981. He slashed her across the cheek, raped her and then strangled her to death. He probably panicked; he didn’t mean to kill her. But it spooked him enough to wait over an entire year before he did it again. But he was still angry. He nearly killed Katherine but he stopped himself. Then he started being even more careful, even more cocky, and three weeks later he found his second victim.”

Gene looked down at the file and opened it, revealing the gruesome photo of Harriet West.

“Shit,” He muttered, “How the bloody ‘ell did we miss this?”

“Different CID. They never found her killer and the case went cold. Every man in Harriet’s life had an alibi and there were no prints or clues found at the scene. He got away with it, Guv.”

“So he’s killed before. How’s that gonna help us, Bolly Kecks?”

“I wonder,” Alex started, ignoring the groan in Gene’s direction, “If we’ve been looking at this the wrong way. This man, he has targeted police officers right from the start. And he’s angry, we’ve established that. Why would you be angry at the police?”

“Plenty of people angry at us, Bols.”

“Yes, of course there are. But most of them are locked away. What about the ones who are free? The ones who can go out and rape and murder us?”

“Dunno. Maybe they’re angry cos we locked ‘em up and now they’re out?”

Alex shook her head, “No, we’re not looking at an ex-convict here. An ex-convict wouldn’t wait an entire year before doing this again. An ex-convict wouldn’t get scared like that. They’ve got a clean record. Who else, Gene?”

“I don’t bloody know! Stop with the hypotheticals and tell me!”

“He’s angry at the police because we’ve locked someone up who he loves and he doesn’t agree with it,” Alex finally said, “A family member, a friend, a lover. Perhaps someone accused of rape who he doesn’t believe did it. He’s making a statement in the only way he knows how – by getting back at the bastards who locked them up.”

Gene leant back in his chair, eyes flicking back to Harriet’s morgue photo.

“If ‘e is tryin’ to make a statement, then what better way than to start with someone who worked in the same police station as the bastards who locked up this friend of ‘is?”

Alex smiled, “Y’know what, Guv? That’s a very good idea.”

Three days later and they were trawling through old witness statements of convicted rapes from the Bishopsgate Police Station. The weather had taken a turn for the worst and outside the sleet rained down on the bleak London cityscape. Alex was flicking page by page, eyes skimming the typed notes until they watered.

“Why d’ya think he’s stopped?” Ray piped up from the other side of the room. There was a casefile in one hand, sprawled across his lap, whilst his other hand was puffing on a cigarette.

“What do you mean?” Chris asked.

“I mean, there were weeks between Kat, Brenda and Melissa. It’s been over a month now. Ain’t that a bit odd?”

“Perhaps every female police officer in London is being extra cautious,” Alex theorised, “The way this disgusting human being works is he picks a very specific woman, and he stalks her for a period of time. He watches everything she does, the way she walks to work or where she stops to grab some last-minute shopping on a Thursday night. He will be picking his time perfectly, but what if that woman is now being very careful? She’s heard about the rapes and now she takes different routes home every night. Maybe she goes with her best friend to the corner shop. He has his eye on someone and is just biding his time until they make a mistake.”

Ray blew out a puff of smoke, “What a bastard.”

“Indeed, Ray. A bastard, he is.”

Night had fallen on the CID and Chris and Shaz started getting ready to go. Judging by the way Ray was teasing the poor constable, it sounded to Alex like Chris was no longer sleeping on the sofa as they originally intended.

Everyone murmured their goodnights and before Alex knew it, Gene appeared at her desk.

“Home time, Bols. You can finish that case file tomorrow.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Alex nodded in defeat. She slipped on her thick knit coat and walked with the Guv out of the office. The sleet was starting to turn into snow by the time they made it out the side doors of the building. Gene had foregone parking the Quattro out the front and instead kept it in the car park along with the rest of the fleet cars. Alex rubbed her hands together to keep the chill away as they walked towards the car.

“’Ang about, Bols. I forgot me lighter.” Gene was patting down jacket. It was routine that the Guv would light up another fag before he turned the key in the ignition.

“For God’s sake, can’t you wait ten minutes until you get home?”

“Nope,” Gene said, “I’ll be back in a mo. Here, take the keys.” He threw them in Alex’s direction and she caught them swiftly.

Alex rolled her eyes as she fumbled with the keys, striding to the driver’s side of the car to place the key in the lock and turn. Gene’s footsteps were long gone as he re-entered the building. For a brief moment she considered getting into the driver’s seat, wondering how he would react to her behind the wheel, but she really wasn’t in the mood for arguments.

With the car unlocked she began to walk back towards the passenger’s side, fully intending to get in and warm up a tad.

What she hadn’t anticipated was the tip-tap of heavy footsteps behind her. Gene had been gone less than a minute, far too soon for him to have gone all the way to his office and back again. Maybe he’d found a lighter in one of his many pockets and turned back before getting to his desk. Alex turned on her heel, expectant.

The figure was all wrong. Rather than Gene’s broad shoulders and billowing coat, the man that stood a few metres away from her was lanky. At first she figured it was another plod, someone heading off-duty for the night. It was only as he took another step forward did she see his face was covered by a scarf.

It took less than a second to connect the dots. Her eyes quickly glanced in the direction Gene had headed but he was long gone. He wouldn’t be back for at least two minutes, possible three or four if he stopped to talk to the Skipper on the front desk. Alex knew there were very few options, especially now that she saw the glint of the blade in his right hand.

She turned and ran.

It would’ve been fine if she hadn’t been wearing high heels. In the panic, her ankle twisted and she went plummeting to the cold, hard ground. Briefly stunned, Alex tried scrabbling away, but he was there. He was on her, knife at her throat, legs straddling her either side. Wheezing from the fall, Alex tried putting her old self defence training into action but he was too fast. Her attempted right hook was easily dodged and she was being dragged away from the Quattro, away from the light of a nearby streetlamp.

A gloved hand smothered her mouth as she tried to scream but it was in vain. More fumbling and the other hand appeared with a piece of fabric. As soon as she smelt it, she knew what it was. Chloroform, or something similar. Alex tried to hold her breath, desperate not breathe in the disgusting stench that was already making her dizzy, but a quick punch to the gut had her gasping and wheezing.

Her vision began to grey and darken at the edges. She attempted to struggle but her movements were weak and everything was starting to take a dangerous tilt. Her fighting limbs began to weaken in his grasp. The man holding her said something, but it was all white noise as she passed out in his arms.

* * *

When Alex woke again, it felt as though someone had stuffed cotton wool into her ears. Moaning, her stomach lurched, and she turned onto her side, retching and vomiting on the floor. Her movements were restricted, and it took her too many seconds to realise why. Above her a body straddled her.

Weak as a kitten, she tried to bat away his prying hands, but to no avail. He brushed away the hair from her face and pressed the blade hard into her cheek.

“Pleasure to meet ya, DI Alex Drake,” The man’s face was still shrouded by the scarf, with only his piercing blue eyes recognisable. His coat hood covered the rest of his head, meaning she couldn’t even get a good look at his hair colour. Alex felt too sick to think, the effects of the chloroform still making the world spin. She tried to struggle out of his hold, but he only gripped her tighter.

“You know what’s going to happen now. How ‘bout you just relax, eh? It’ll be over in a jiffy.”

He sounded too calm, too final. Alex was a fighter, and she wasn’t going to allow this bastard to get the better of her. Her eyes rolled to the top of her head as another bout of nausea rolled through her. She tried to get a better look at her surroundings but the only thing she could see was the dark night sky above them and the damp walls of an alley. He must’ve driven her here, away from the police station and Gene.

Alex let out a choked scream, but it was quickly cut off by his gloved hand, “Ah ah, Detective. Don’t need you making a noise, eh? I’ll strangle you if I have to.”

“L-like you did with Harriet?” Alex wheezed, her tongue slurring her words. Christ, she was so tired. She could barely string a sentence together.

“Mm, you want me to confess, d’ya? Not before I fuck you, miss.”

The man’s filthy hands crept over Alex’s jeans and undid her button. She kicked out in blind panic as her zip was slowly pulled down.

“No no no no no-” Alex cried, legs thrashing beneath him. But her assailant had done this before, and he was much stronger than she was, even without the chloroform.

He peeled away her jeans and underwear from over her hips, exposing her skin to the harsh, cold air of February. Alex didn’t know when she’d started crying, only that the tears were flooding down her cheeks.

“Would ya look at that,” The bastard marvelled, drinking in her naked body, “Ain’t you a filthy lookin’ slut. You absolute whore.”

Alex tried turning her face away from the man but he pulled her back, forcing her to meet his cold gaze. One hand parted her legs all too easily and then he was fumbling for his flies. She tried to scream again, but the knife he held against her slowly sank into her throat, quashing her cries. She felt blood pool up against his knife as the man freed himself from his underpants, stroking himself to fruition.

“You want this,” The man said, “You deserve this. Y’know, maybe I’ll be nice. Maybe I won’t call you a slut no more. I’ve ‘eard a lovely li’l pet name for you. Bolly, innit? Your Guv’nor likes to call you that. Posh little bitch.”

Horrified, Alex realises he’s heard them. He’s been close enough to listen to conversations with her and Gene. Alex was panicking now, thrashing with all her might to get away from this bastard.

“Calm it, Bolly. You’ll be jus’ fine if you relax a bit. Can you do that? ‘Ow about you think I’m your Guv? Is ‘e a good fuck?”

“No, no!” She sobbed, feeling his length against her thigh. _Don’t fucking call me that,_ she thought desperately, _that’s not your name to use_.

“You’ll be just fine, just relax sweetheart,” She didn’t need to see his lips to know he was smiling. There was a split second where Alex forgot to breathe as he lined himself up against her trembling body.

He forced his way inside of her. Something inside of Alex broke.

Her gaze fixated on a spot just above his shoulder, up at the dark night’s sky. It hadn’t even stopped snowing, but the ground was too wet for it to settle. Her body felt wrecked from the combination of the drug, the rape, the cold.

She tried to think of Molly, pretend she was curled up with her on the sofa back at home, watching some crappy telly. But every thrust brought her back into the moment. She wasn’t in 2008 with her little girl. She wasn’t even with Gene Hunt, who had sworn to protect her. She was in a dark alleyway, being violated in a way she’d never been able to comprehend. Alex couldn’t help the sobs that escaped her lips.

With no frame of reference, she couldn’t even keep track of the time. Her mind was moving so sluggishly, any details she tried to capture from her assailant melted away with the snow. His thrusts started to become more erratic, more painful, and Alex could feel something tear inside her. It felt like a lifetime before he finished with a groan and pulled out of her.

She didn’t need to look to know he was covered in her blood.

Lying broken on the floor, Alex felt her breath quicken as her attacker adjusted the grip on his knife and pressed it into her left cheek.

“Somethin’ to remind you of me, eh?” He whispered, sliding the knife down her cheek like butter. Alex barely even felt the sting, too pained from her other attack.

With a harsh slap to her uncut cheek, he tucked himself away, did up his trousers and walked away, leaving Alex half naked in the dark alleyway.

Alex counted the seconds that went by until his footsteps were lost to the distance. She counted one minute. Then two. When she finally reached five minutes, she shakily pulled her jeans back over her hips. Her fingers were numb from the cold as she steadied herself on the wall beside her and stood up. Agony shot through her groin and Alex took a few moments to catch her breath.

Wiping the tears from her eyes and the blood from her cheek, she staggered out of the alley, finding herself in a quiet side street. There was not a soul to be seen, but she recognised where she was - she was only a few roads down from Fenchurch East.

Staggering in the direction of her workplace, Alex only passed a handful of people, none of whom stopped to ask if she was alright. A hysterical laugh bubbled up inside her. She must look an absolute state. She could still feel the cut on her cheek sluggishly bleeding down her face.

She’s not sure how long it took to walk back. On a normal day it’d take her less than five minutes to get there, but tonight it took her at least double that. Eventually she stumbled her way to the front steps of Fenchurch East, knowing that everything was going to change as soon as she opened those doors.

In her time, Alex had come across plenty of women too afraid to come forward about their rape. As a police officer, she had always tried her damnedest to get them to testify against their assailant. However, with less than five percent of rapists getting convicted, there was no wonder many women never wanted their life tainted by an accusation of rape. You were no longer just a woman. You were a victim. Someone fragile and broken. Someone to be pitied. A statistic.

When Alex goes through those doors, that is what she will become. Her team will all know what became of her tonight. She will have to undergo an intrusive and intimate examination by a doctor, she will have to give a statement of the darkest moment of her life. From this day on, she knew she will be treated differently. Shaz will look at her with sad, sympathetic eyes. Ray and Chris will be more careful, make her more cups of tea, tiptoe around her in case she breaks. Gene will likely never argue with her again, probably never touch her, hold her, _kiss_ her.

It was these thoughts that made Alex hesitate for a second. Only for a moment. There was no way she was going to hide this from the team, even if she wanted to. She’d disappeared from right under Gene’s nose and everyone would know as soon as she walked into the office with a giant slash across her left cheek. It was better to get this over with now.

Pushing the doors open, Alex made her way to the front desk, where Viv was on duty for the night. It took a few seconds for Viv to spot her; he was busy writing something down. His gaze travelled upwards at the sound of the click-clack of her heels.

His eyes widened and jaw went slack as he took in the sight of her.

“Oh, _shit_. I mean, ma’am,” Viv stumbled, hastily grabbing his radio, “I need to let the Guv know. He’s out looking for you, ma’am.”

Alex said nothing, but the sting of tears was back. She imagined Gene driving down every side street in his Quattro, desperately trying to find her before it was too late.

“Guv?” Viv’s mouth was to his radio, “Come in, Guv.”

“I’m busy, skipper,” Came the grainy voice on the other end of the line.

“It’s DI Drake, Guv. She’s here, at front desk,” Viv was eyeing her nervously and Alex was desperately looking anywhere but him. She couldn’t face that pitying look.

“I’m on me way back,” Gene responded through the radio. Alex was glad he hadn’t asked anymore questions, she’s not sure she could’ve taken Viv’s response if Gene had asked how she was.

“Ma’am, do you want to sit down? A cuppa, maybe?” Viv’s voice filtered back into Alex’s conscious and she blinked away her tears.

Alex glanced at the seats around front desk and realised this was the last place she wanted to be. She would be front and centre stage in this room. Everyone and their son could walk through here and see her. Wrapping her arms around herself, Alex smiled tightly.

“I’ll go take a seat in Interview Room 1, Viv. A cup of tea would be lovely, if that’s ok?”

“Uh, the interview room? Ok, sure. I’ll be back in a minute with your cuppa.”

Alex took herself into the room, shivering at the coldness of it. She figured she’d have to give her statement somewhere, and this was the best place for that. It gave her privacy and the tape recorder was here to capture everything she had to say. A few minutes later Viv came in with a steaming drink.

“Do you need me to call the doctor, ma’am? You don’t look so hot right now.”

“No, Viv. Not right now,” Alex isn’t sure whether she can take a doctor right now. The idea of anyone examining her sent shivers down her spine. Viv nodded wordlessly and left her alone, shutting the door behind him.

Alex cradled the mug in her hands, letting the warmth seep through the numbed fingers. At some point she must’ve closed her eyes, letting the lull of silence seep over her, because the next minute the door was flying open. Alex jumped, spilling a bit of tea over her hands. Cursing, she wiped the liquid onto her jeans before looking up.

Just inside the doorway stood Gene Hunt. She’s not sure she’s ever seen him this distraught; his eyes were wide with worry, his hair unkempt, his tie loosely undone at the neck. There were a few seconds of silence as they took each other in. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

“Alex,” He murmured, closing the door softly behind him, but she didn’t know what to say. Damnit, she always knew what to say, “Please tell me he didn’t. Tell me you got away.” He was approaching her like she was a frightened animal.

She could lie. Alex almost did, just to wipe the fear and guilt off his face. He was supposed to be protecting her and he’d turned his back for only a few minutes. The lie was on the tip of her tongue but a lump in her throat stopped her from saying anything. Before she could say a word, a sob bubbled up from inside her. And then another. And suddenly she was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks, stinging her cut in the process.

Arms were wrapping around her, cradling her body. She buried her face into Gene’s neck as she wailed. This was never meant to happen. Her and the Guv had been a team and they were meant to crack this case. Her mind briefly flitted back to a month ago, when Shaz had confided in her fear. Alex had been so confident and sure of herself. She hadn’t needed the Guv like Shaz had needed Chris. And look where that got her.

She’s not sure how long Gene held Alex, only that eventually the wracking sobs died down and the tears dried on her cheeks. Eventually she pulled away, but she didn’t dare look at the Guv, she was scared of what she might find in those blue eyes of his.

“I-I need to make a statement,” Alex rasped, voice broken along with the rest of her.

“You need to go to hospital,” Gene countered, and Alex was already shaking her head.

“Not yet, please not yet.”

She thought Gene might argue with her, but then he conceded and pulled away. She watched him grab the chair from the other side of the table and drag it round so that it was directly next to hers.

“Your statement, then?”

Alex eyed the table before them. Gene wasn’t holding a pen or notepad to take notes, and she quirked an eyebrow at him. He glanced at the tape recorder on the side of the table and pressed play.

“The time is 1:15am on the 4th February, 1983. Present in the room is DCI Gene Hunt and DI Alex Drake,” Gene begun roughly, then paused, second guessing himself, “Do you want someone else in ‘ere to take your statement? A nice female plod? I can get Granger on the blower for you.”

“No, no it’s fine,” Alex said, feeling a headache coming on, “Don’t want to worry the team.”

Gene was gazing at her with such intensity that she had to look away.

“Then talk to me, Bolly. What ‘appened?” Alex flinched at the pet name, the traumatic memories of the night already surfacing.

“Please don’t call me that,” She whispered, “ _He_ called me that.”

There was a stunned silence, before Gene uttered in disbelief, “You _what_?”

Something dangerous flickered across Gene’s face before he closed himself off. Tightening his jaw, he leaned back in the chair and let Alex explain.

She carefully recounted the events of the evening, from the moment Gene left her at the car until the very moment she walked back through the doors of the station. She deliberately glossed over the rape as much as she could, she’s not sure Gene needed to hear the grisly details of that, however she made sure to mention as much as possible about the attacker.

“He had a London accent. He knew my name, referred to me as DI Alex Drake. Clearly he’s been following me for some time. He… taunted me. Called me Bolly to get a rise out of me, I think. It means he’s been close enough to hear us talking, I think he wanted me to know that.” The thought chilled Alex to the very core.

With each recollection, Gene’s body had got tenser. At some point he had unconsciously curled his right hand into a fist.

“His clothes? Smells? Hair colour?”

“He wasn’t in chef’s clothing. A dark coat with a hood, I think,” Alex frowned, surprised she hadn’t paid attention to what he was wearing, “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. I should’ve paid more attention.” Her memory was foggy at best, but that wasn’t going to help the investigation. She couldn’t believe she’d let her mind wander when she could’ve been gathering information.

“Don’t do that,” Gene said quietly.

“Do what?”

“Blame yerself for not taking in every little detail. You’ve just been through ‘ell and back. You deserve a bloody medal.”

Alex felt tears spring to her eyes again. Surely there were no tears left to cry.

“Right, if that’s everythin’. Interview concluded at,” He checked his watch, “2:07am.”

The tape recorder clicked, and Alex felt herself relax. It was over. She’d done what she had to and now she could go home.

Gene stood and Alex followed, wincing from the pain between her legs.

The Guv with his hawk eyes noticed in an instant, “Time to take you to the ‘ospital,” Gene said, reaching to take her hand.

Panic flared up inside of Alex. Her hand tightly gripped Gene’s.

“No hospital.”

“No ‘ospital? You are bloody joking. Have you even looked in the mirror? Your face is covered in blood.”

“It’s not that deep, it doesn’t need stitches,” Alex pushed, “I’ll go clear up in the ladies.”

Alex was already trying to move past Gene but he blocked her way. Something akin to anger ignited within her.

“Get the hell out of my way, Gene,” She hissed, “I am having the shittiest night of my life and I just want to go _home_.” In more ways than one.

“Not on my bloody watch you’re not. C’mon, let me at least clean your face up. Then I’ll drive you home.”

Surprised that Gene had conceded so easily, she let him lead the way into the kitchenette in their office where the first aid kit was held. Sitting her down at the table, Gene took the cotton buds from the kit and dabbed them with antiseptic before reaching out to her cheek.

“This ok, Alex?” He murmured and waited until Alex signalled with a nod before he began wiping away the dried blood from her cheek.

They sat in silence, Alex letting her eyes drift shut as Gene tended to her wound. Once he’d finished with her cheek, he moved onto her neck, wiping at the blood that had pooled at her neck from when she’d tried to scream for help. It was an oddly intimate moment but Alex found herself relaxing under Gene’s touch. When both wounds had been cleaned, Gene got up and chucked the cotton buds into the nearest bin and then sat back down.

“Are you hurt, Alex? Down…” Gene trailed off, gesturing vaguely to her groin area.

Alex hadn’t looked at herself since it had happened. She’d been in too much of a rush to pull up her trousers to get a good look at the extent of her injuries. She knew from the previous victims that two of the three girls had had vaginal tearing from their attack but none of them had needed stitches. Judging by the stinging and the slight stickiness of her underwear, Alex could probably guess she was in the same boat as the majority.

“I’ll be fine, Guv,” She whispered, “I’ll check when I’m home but I won’t need stitches.”

Gene didn’t look convinced but nodded stiffly, still not moving from his seat. It was obvious he wanted her checked over by a professional, but Alex was desperate for control over her own body for the time being.

“I can get rid of that tape,” Gene said quietly after a few seconds of silence, “I can tell Viv he didn’t see you this evening. I can tell the folks you’ve taken a couple o’ weeks holiday in Bognor. They don’t have to know if you don’t wan’ them to.”

Alex could almost cry at his compassion. She was dreading seeing the team again after this, particularly Shaz, and Gene was offering her his silence. No one needed to know.

“We can’t do that, Guv,” Alex whispered, regretting her words already, “It would be wrong. Particularly to the other girls. They deserve better.”

Gene nodded, “Yeah, I thought it were worth an ask. You did a brave thing tonight, Bol-” Gene cut himself off, “-Alex.”

In that moment Alex hated her assailant. Hated that Gene’s affectionate nickname had been so cruelly taken from them. Hated how her and Gene’s relationship would likely not continue in the way she’d hoped.

“Doesn’t feel all that brave.”

“Well it is, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. ‘Specially yourself. Now c’mon, let’s get you home.”

Gene stood first, offering his hand. Alex took it shakily and let herself be walked out of the building. They passed Viv at the front desk, who nodded to them on their way out. They had just left through the side exit, just as they’d done several hours earlier, when Alex’s heart begun to pound. The circumstances felt too familiar. The Audi Quattro was parked in a similar place to earlier. Her eyes gazed into the shadows, staring into the area where she’d passed out.

“I’m right here,” Gene’s voice anchored her back into the present moment, “Now get in.”

The door was opened for her and Alex slipped into the passenger’s side. Wrapping her coat around her tightly, Gene walked around the other side and put the key into the ignition. She let the familiar rumble of the Quattro lull her into a sense of security as they began to drift out of the car park.

“What are you doing about the crime scenes?” Alex asked, gazing into the shadowy area through the wing mirror.

“Got a few plods on the alleyway this evening, already inspected the car park while lookin’ for you. He didn’t leave a bloody trace. Anyway, stop worrying about that. You’re not to think about it anymore, alright?”

Alex nodded silently, letting the darkness of London blur past her. She wondered whether Gene was going to hand the case over to another CID, like Fenchurch West had done when Brenda had been attacked. _Not bloody likely_ , she thought to herself. Gene would tear the world apart to find this rapist. Although what would he do when he got his hands on him? Alex dreaded to think.

Pulling up outside Luigi’s, Alex could see all the lights were off inside. It was no surprise, seeing as it was nearing on four in the morning by the time they got back. Alex let herself be walked up the stairs until they reached her front door. Fumbling in her pocket for a moment, she brought out her key and placed it inside the lock. Her flat was just as she left it the morning before; a mug of cold, half-drunk tea sat on the kitchen counter, her favourite white boots were sprawled just inside the doorway, a blanket was slung over the sofa from when she’s napped on there last night. Shivering, Alex took another step inside her abode.

“I need a shower,” Alex said, all too aware of how disgusting she felt.

“I’ll wait in ‘ere,” Gene gestured to the living room. She knew he wasn’t going to leave her until she was safely tucked up in bed. The thought warmed her bleak and broken heart.

She padded into the bathroom and slipped off her clothes. It was no surprise there were stains of blood from the inside of the underwear and her stomach coiled at the sight. She threw her knickers straight into the bin and then stared at her body in the full-length mirror. Her hips and thighs were littered with bruises from where she’d been held down and her legs had been prized apart. There was dried blood around her groin from the tearing. Nauseous, Alex sank down onto the toilet seat and cleaned it away the best she could. The wounds were no worse than when she’d given birth to Molly, but they had been obtained in much more violent and horrific circumstances.

Once she’d cleaned herself up in the most intimate of areas, she turned on the shower and made sure it was steaming hot. She slipped under the heavy stream of the water and let it rinse over her for a few seconds before grabbing the soap and starting to scrub with a sudden ferocity.

She didn’t feel very clean, even after she’d scrubbed every inch of her skin. Perhaps she’d clean herself twice, just to make doubly sure.

It was only once she’d cleaned herself for a third time that she heard the soft knock of the bathroom door. Jumping out of her skin, she looked down at her red-raw body, ashamed. No amount of scrubbing would clean away the feeling of disgust that she felt.

“Just a minute,” She called to Gene before turning off the shower and drying herself off with a towel. Once sufficiently dry, she slipped on her favourite silk pyjamas and brushed her teeth until her gums bled.

When she unlocked and opened the door, she saw Gene had taken himself back to the sofa and looked almost like he was nodding off.

Jumping at the noise of the bathroom door opening, Gene looked over to her. If he noticed her raw skin, he decided not to mention it.

“Right, beddy byes for you,” He said and Alex started towards her bedroom. She frowned when she saw Gene had made no movement to get up and leave. It was only then that she noticed he’d slipped off his snakeskin boots.

“You’re not going?”

“No, Alex. I’m not leaving you here on your own, I’ll be takin’ the sofa.”

Something about that eased the pounding of her racing heart, so she didn’t bother to argue with him. Alex nodded and paused at the doorway.

“Gene?” He looked up, “Thank you.”

They held gazes for a few seconds before she walked into the bedroom and slipped under the duvet. After such an exhausting day it took her less than a minute to fall asleep.

* * *

Dawn arrived far too quickly for Alex’s liking. For a moment she had forgotten the previous night’s events, until she rolled over and felt a stinging twinge between her legs.

Opening her eyes, she groaned. Light streamed through her flimsy curtains. Her digital alarm clock flashed 9:34AM in bright red digits. Shit, she was late for work. Then she realised it was very likely she wouldn’t be going into work for the foreseeable future.

Falling out of bed, she stumbled out of her bedroom to find Gene Hunt reading the paper in her living room. She wasn’t terribly surprised he was still here, but it still felt odd that he'd spent the night. Even odder than the night they’d slept together. She decided she wasn’t in the mood for talking until she’d at least used the loo and brushed her teeth.

Sitting on the toilet, Alex winced as the stinging intensified as she emptied her bladder and was careful to only dab the area with toilet paper. The paper came away with some spots of blood but nothing more. Relieved she would almost definitely not need stitches, Alex walked to the sink and began to brush her teeth. She inspected the cut on her cheek, which was just starting to scab up.

By the time Alex was finished she was feeling much more refreshed. Unlocking the bathroom door, she glanced at Gene who was in the exact same spot as earlier.

“Morning,” She said, wondering whether Gene was ever going to let her out of his sight again.

“G’morning, Madam Fruitcake,” She could tell he was being careful not to call her Bolly, “How’re you feeling?”

The Guv seemed to be in no hurry to rush to work so she sank down onto the sofa, “I’m ok. A bit tired but I’ll live.” She tried to smile but it probably came out as more of a grimace.

Gene huffed in response, “I’m putting you on sick leave for a week minimum. You are in no fit state to be going back to the office anytime soon.”

Alex saw that coming, but she wasn’t entirely happy about having her life dictated to by Gene. The thought of having to sit in this flat for a week filled her with dread.

“Wait, Guv. I’m fine. I feel fine. I’ll go mad if you make me stay here!”

He huffed, “Madder than you already are? I’d pay to see that.”

“Please, Gene. You really think staying at home is going to help me?”

“You need to rest up and recover. We’re in the middle of an investigation that you’re now a part of. I’m not budging on this, Alex.”

The fight left Alex’s body, replacing it with weariness. She was exhausted. Maybe a few days of rest and recuperation would do her the world of good. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a holiday.

“Fine, I’ll do as I’m told,” _For once_ , “You’re not giving the case up to another CID?”

“Wouldn’t bloody dream of it. I’m going to nail this bastard. It’s the least I can do after failing you last night.”

It took a few seconds before we realised what Gene was referring to. Of course. It was only natural for him to feel guilt after leaving her in the car park. Alex was surprised she didn’t feel more anger towards her Guv, but she was too numb to feel much at all.

“You didn’t fail me,” She said softly.

Gene laughed, but there was no humour in it. She’s never seen him like this before.

“I’m not sure a day will ever go by that I won’t regret what I did last night. I promised I would protect you from that bastard an’ I let you down in the worst possible way. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me. So yes, I did fail you.”

Alex felt her eyes sting with unshed tears at Gene’s confession. Not for one moment had she ever blamed him for what happened. It had been an unfortunate accident that was bound to happen at some point. It had been a lapse in judgement, that’s all.

“Gene, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I left you, Alex. That’s on me.”

With the whole weight of the world on his shoulders, Gene abruptly stood up from the sofa and lit up a cigarette.

“Don’t do that,” She said.

“Oh, sorry,” He muttered, stubbing out the fag on an old plate on her coffee table.

“No, I don’t mean the bloody cigarette. I mean don’t blame yourself for what happened. You told me last night not to blame myself, and now it’s right back atcha, Gene Hunt. I’ve spoken to enough rape victims in the past to know the only bastard to blame is the rapist themselves. I’m not going to let you keep thinking like this, it’s not healthy for the either of us.”

Gene stared at her grimly as he lit up another cigarette, taking a long, hard drag.

“Guv, we’ll get him. We have to.” Was she trying to convince him or herself? At this point she had no idea.

“We will, Lady B. But for now, you’re stayin’ ‘ere. I’ll get a plod to stay with you.”

Alex appreciated his concern but she really didn’t want a random police officer staying with her in the flat when the rest of the team were solving cases. She crossed her arms and pouted, before remembering something from the previous night.

“I still need a medical examination.”

Gene blanched, looking at her in surprise, “Thought you didn’t want to see a doc?”

“I didn’t. I still don’t. But if I’m going to testify in court, they need proof of what happened to me, just like the rest of the victims. We’re doing this by the book, and that means I’ve got to do this, whether I like it or not.”

Gene met her steady gaze, eyes slowly travelling to the gash on her cheek.

“Fine,” He conceded, “But then you’re being taken straight ‘ome.”

Now that they were both in agreement, Alex stood from the sofa and went to collect last night’s clothes from the bathroom. She caught herself looking at the bloody pair of knickers that sat at the top of her bin. If this was 2008, all clothes a rape victim had been wearing on the night of their attack would have been bagged up and sent off to forensics by now. Fibres from underneath her fingernails would’ve been taken, her mouth, face and groin would’ve been swabbed for DNA.

_I really should’ve gone to hospital last night_ , she thought distractedly, knowing she’d washed away any forensic evidence from her body. Her rapist hadn’t worn any form of protection and there was a high risk of STDs and pregnancy. Alex bit the inside of her cheek, wondering whether the morning after pill even existed in 1983. Could she even get pregnant in this world? She’s sure the doctor will ask her these questions down at the station.

Gathering up last night’s clothes, she placed them in a bag before getting dressed into a new outfit. When she finally exited her bedroom, Gene pointed to the bag in her hand.

“Goin’ shopping?”

“No, it’s last night’s clothes. It’s evidence, Guv. You never know what you might find.”

Gene said nothing more as they headed downstairs to where the Quattro was parked.

“Have you let the others know?” Alex asked as she settled into the passenger seat.

“Not yet, told ‘em I’d be in late this mornin’. You’re not stepping foot into the office - you’re getting examined and then you’re out of there, capiche?”

“Capiche.”

A few minutes later and they parked up out the front of the station. There was a brisk chill in the air as they exited the Audi and Alex quickly shoved her hands into her coat as they headed up the steps and through the front doors. Viv must be off duty as there was another skipper on the front desk who was busy booking a couple of young lads who appeared to have gotten into a fight. She felt the weight of Gene’s hand on the small of her back as he guided her away from the hustle and bustle of the main entrance and down the corridor towards the examination room.

“In ‘ere. I’ll go get the doc.”

The door shut behind him and Alex was once again left alone with her thoughts.

A few minutes later there was a gentle knock at the door and the force medical examiner appeared with his briefcase. She’d dealt with him a handful of times with previous cases.

“Hello Alex, my name is Dr. Bateman. Mr. Hunt, if you could please let me examine my patient alone?”

Gene, who had been hovering behind the doctor, didn’t budge until Alex gave him a nod that she’d be ok on her own. Whilst her and the Guv were close, there was no way she wanted him present for this. Gene turned and left the room in understanding.

“Gene didn’t quite give me all the details, only that I needed to check you over. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” Dr. Bateman, or Charles if Alex remembered his name correctly, had put his briefcase on the floor but kept his distance from her.

Alex took in a shuddering breath and nodded, “I was attacked last night.”

“I see. I don’t mean to be blunt, but were you sexually assaulted in this attack?”

The words stuck in her throat, she nodded silently instead.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Alex. Do you mind taking a seat? I will have a look at those cuts on your face first.”

Alex did as she was told. Dr. Bateman took a seat opposite her and reached out to touch her face. She did her best not to flinch under his close scrutiny. 

He made a few notes as he examined her face and neck, humming as he did so. “A few centimetres deeper and you may have needed stitches,” He commented, “But it looks like you cleaned it well. There’s no sign of infection.” Alex remained silent, not trusting herself to speak.

She knew what was coming next.

“Are you comfortable taking your trousers and underwear off behind the screen? I won’t come through until you are ready for me.”

Alex’s breath stuttered. She remained frozen to her seat, unable to say a word. Dr. Bateman was careful not to push her.

“I can’t promise this will be a comfortable examination, Alex, but if you are planning on pressing charges and need to testify in court then a doctor’s statement of your injuries can greatly help your case. I promise I will be as quick as I can.”

Alex closed her eyes, thinking about the other poor women that had been raped. They had all undergone doctor examinations, with notes written about every intimate detail of their injuries. There was no reason to fear the man in front of her, he was a stark contrast to the man who had forced himself on her the night before.

“I could also fetch a chaperone if you would like?”

Alex was already shaking her head, “No, no chaperone. I’ll be ok,” Alex smiled tightly. She didn’t need another person on the force seeing her like this. A few moments later she let out a shaky breath and nodded, “Ok, I’m ready.”

Dr. Bateman pulled the screen across, leaving Alex to undress from the waist down. She had insisted there were no injuries beneath her jumper. Shakily, she lay down on the bed. Being exposed for the second time in two days with the thought of someone looking at her body with such scrutiny made her uneasy. Swallowing down the nausea, Dr. Bateman reappeared with latex gloves and a notepad.

The examination was not a quick process. He documented the bruises to her hips and thighs, he touched sensitive areas that were last touched by another man. He took swabs from inside of her, placing them inside sterile plastic bags. He checked for tearing and internal damage. At some point Alex started crying. She turned her face into the pillow, nails digging into the plasticised mattress beneath her.

“All done,” Dr. Bateman said finally, and Alex let out a sigh of relief, “You can get dressed now.”

“Will I need photos taken of my injuries?” She asked, unsure she’d be able to cope with people like Chris or Ray getting hold of such photographs.

“No, my notes should suffice if this case makes it to court. I will be prescribing you an emergency contraceptive as a precaution as well as prophylactic antibiotics in case of infection. I would suggest we schedule a follow-up examination in three weeks, just in case you have contracted anything venereal.”

Alex nodded, taking the prescription from him.

“If there’s nothing else, I will go get Mr. Hunt for you. He was very explicit that I am not to let you leave here without him.”

Wiping at her eyes with the back of her sleep, she watched as the doctor left her alone once again. It was less than two minutes later that Gene appeared at the door. She let his eyes roam over her face, and whatever he was looking for seemed to satisfy him as he opened the door wider, letting her walk out.

“Time to go home,” He murmured from beside her, “I’ve arranged a plod to take you back. They can be stationed outside your door until I come back tonight.”

“You’re coming back?” Alex asked, surprised.

“’Course I am. I promised I’d keep an eye on you. But until then, you’ve got PC Jameson to keep you company.”

They arrived back at the front desk, where PC Jameson was waiting for her. He was a young plod with a warm smile, who was holding his police helmet under his arm. Sighing, Alex stepped away from Gene towards the man.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Jameson said, “I will be escorting you home.”

Alex let herself by guided out the doors. She turned her head to briefly catch Gene’s burning gaze on her, before turning back and walking away.

* * *

Gene watched Alex’s departing figure, resisting the urge to chase after her and drive her back himself. He trusted Jameson, but there was something that didn’t feel right that he wasn’t the one to take her home. He wasn’t there for her last night and now he couldn’t be there for her today. However, he had a job to do: catch the bastard who dared lay a finger on his DI.

Shoving his hands into his trouser pockets, Gene headed back the way they came and pushed open the doors into CID. There was a quiet lull in the office since he’d explained what had happened to their DI the previous night. He had gathered them together after he’d dropped Alex off at the examination room and quietly told them what had happened.

_“That bastard rapist has struck again,” He’d said._

_“Bollocks,” Ray had cursed under his breath, at the same time Chris had said, “Is she alright, Guv?”_

_Gene had pursed his lips, looking at each and every face of his team. Shaz had glanced over at Alex’s desk and frowned, as though she was starting to put together the pieces of the puzzle._

_“There’s no easy way of sayin’ this,” He’d started, “But it were one of our own. From Fenchurch East.” A ripple of surprise emanated from the team, a gasp from Shaz, a few murmurs from the others._

_“Guv? Who was it?” Chris asked._

_There was a moment where Gene hadn’t wanted to tell them. Alex was a pain in their backside most of the time, but the entire team held a lot of respect for her. She was a decent copper and the idea of anyone harming her made him feel sick to the very core._

_“Guv?” Ray prompted after a few seconds. There was no use stalling - they all knew. He could see they’d all connected the dots by now, but they needed their Guv to say it. Say her bloody name._

_“It were DI Alex Drake,” He finally said, ignoring the surprised whispers and sad eyes, “Nabbed her in the station car park. I turned away for one bloody second.” It’d been more than a second, though, hadn’t it? He’d left her vulnerable and alone for enough time to get nabbed. Gene had shaken away the intrusive thought._

_“Oh God,” Shaz cried, a hand covering her mouth. Chris was already putting his arm around her in comfort._

_“We will nail this bastard and we will nail him soon. We’re doing this for Alex. Shaz, Interview Room 1 has ‘er statement on the tape recorder. Type it up and put it with the other statements. The rest of yer, keep going through the statements at Bishopsgate Police Station. It’s Alex’s lead and it’s the best lead we’ve got.”_

_With an echo of “yes, guvs”, the team set to work._

A few hours later and with Drakey heading back home, Gene surveyed his team. It was quite possibly the quietest he had ever seen them. Shaz was tapping away at the typewriter, eyes bloodshot and red rimmed. Chris and Ray were flicking through pages upon pages of old witness statements in a hope to find someone that might match the psychological profile Alex had put together.

A few eyes darted up as Gene walked past their desks, but they quickly averted them back down to whatever it had been they were concentrating on. Gene made his way into his office, shutting the door behind him. He could feel the pent-up rage threatening to bubble to the surface. He’d tried to keep calm for Alex, but the more he thought about the case, the more everything infuriated him.

She’d not deserved it. None of the girls had.

He furiously kicked the filing cabinet before pouring himself a thimbleful of scotch. It wasn’t even midday yet, but he needed something to calm him down. Knocking back the amber liquid, he glanced down at the casefiles on his desk. _No time like the present_ , he thought to himself, picking up an old rape case from 1979 and beginning to read through it.

* * *

Four long hours later and there was a knock at the door. Gene was on his third glass of scotch and the words in his hands were starting to blur together.

“What?” He called, rubbing at his eyes.

“Guv?” It was Ray, “I think I’ve found someone.”

Clarity came back to Gene all too quickly as his eyes shot up to his sergeant. “Who? Give me details, Raymondo.”

Ray placed the witness statement in front of Gene. There was no photo, only paragraphs upon paragraphs of handwritten testimonies.

“Alice Hargreeves was raped in January of 1981. She knew her attacker, her ex-boyfriend by the name of Neil Daniels. ‘E jumped her on the way home from work, raped her and then went to the pub to meet up with ‘is brother, Fred Daniels.”

“So?”

“So, Alice was adamant it were Neil who did it. She recognised his voice durin’ the attack. The case nearly didn’t make it to court, as Fred Daniels insisted he had been with Neil all night during the attack.”

“So Fred lied to protect his brother. Stranger things ‘ave ‘appened.”

“Neil was found guilty on 4th September 1981, two days before Harriet West turned up dead. But look at Fred’s occupation.”

Ray reached over and pointed to an area underlined in the mass of text.

“Bugger me, ‘e’s a sous chef,” Gene said.

“A bloody sous chef working at a French place right in the centre of London.”

“Right, bring ‘im in. Pronto.”

“Yes, Guv.”

Less than an hour later, Ray and Chris had a man in cuffs. He was taller and skinnier than the Guv, with slicked back hair that made his skin crawl. He was dressed in chef whites as he’d presumably been pulled straight from the kitchen he worked at.

“Well done, Raymundo. Interview room two, if you please.”

Ray grinned, chewing on his gum as he dragged Fred Daniels down the corridor and into the interview room.

“Guv?” Ray asked after he’d forced Fred to sit in the interview chair. Gene was staying just outside of the doorway, eyeballing the man warily.

“We need to do this by the book, Raymondo. For Alex’s sake.”

Ray nodded in understanding. Gone were the days they would beat a man to a pulp until they forced a confession out of him. As much as Gene wanted to wrap his hands around this bastard’s throat, he knew he couldn’t screw up this investigation. He followed Ray into the interview room and took a seat opposite Fred Daniels, who had his arms crossed tightly and was eyeing the two detectives in disdain.

“Righto. Fred Daniels, ain’t it?” Guv began, opening up his folder full of dates, places, witness statements and crime scene photos.

“Who wants to know?” Fred asked.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Shall we start from the beginnin’?”

“Beginning of what?”

“Where were you on the night of 6th September 1981, between the hours of nine and eleven?”

“You are joking? How should I bloody know? That was over a year ago!”

“It were two days after your bastard brother got ten years. Maybe that’ll jog your memory, eh?” Gene watched Fred’s face closely.

“Dunno, too long ago. What’s this all about, anyways?” The man hedged.

“Why’d you lie on your witness statement about your brother? You told the police that you’d been with him all night, but we know that ain’t true, don’t we?”

“My brother didn’t do nuffin’. You lot locked away an innocent man.”

“Did we? But you did lie, didn’t you? You weren’t with him that night. You only met up with him after he raped his ex-girlfriend down a filthy alleyway.”

Fred snorted, “No bloody comment.”

Gene slammed his hands down on the table, making the suspect jump in his chair.

“Don’t start playin’ games with me, Daniels. I think you’re scum an’ I think your brother’s scum. I think you knew Neil raped Alice Hargreeves that night, but you were desperate to have ‘im get away with it. You’re lucky you didn’t get time for perverting the course of justice.”

“Piss off. You lot don’t know nuffin’.”

Clenching his jaw, Gene fished out the morgue photo of Harriet West and placed it in front of Fred.

“You recognise this young girl?”

There was a glint in Fred’s eyes as he inspected the photo.

“Nah, pretty girl though, in’t she? She carked it, then?”

Gene’s stomach clenched uneasily. Only a psychopath would find a photo of a stiff attractive.

“She was brutally raped and murdered two days after your brother got put be’ind bars. She was twenty-two years old, an innocent plod who worked at the same station that convicted your precious brother. You know what I think?” Fred stayed stubbornly silent, “I think you were angry. You were pissed off with the police at Bishopsgate so you decided to take it out on this woman. You were only gonna rape ‘er, maybe rough ‘er up a bit. But things got out of hand, didn’t it, Fred? Maybe she was gonna scream. Maybe you just wanted to shut ‘er up. So you raped ‘er and strangled ‘er and left her body in a dark, wet alley.”

“Nah, I dunno what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Bullshit,” Ray piped up, hands clenching into fists.

“Easy, DS Carling,” Gene soothed. They couldn’t force this confession. By the bloody book.

“So you ain’t got any evidence? Shame, that,” Fred was smirking now, and Gene wished he could punch it right off his face.

“Oh we’ll get evidence.”

“Bloody bent coppers. What you gonna do? Plant her knickers under me pillow?”

“Don’t bloody tempt me.”

Gene could feel himself getting worked up. The pressure of this case sitting over him for the past couple of months was beginning to get to him. He loosened his tie from around his neck, nodding at Ray to continue the interview for the moment.

Ray pulled out the next file.

“So maybe Harriet’s death was a bit too long ago. Let’s try the next one, shall we? Where were you on the night of the 19th November last year? Just before midnight?” Fred shrugged and Ray placed down a portrait photo of Katherine Jacobs. She was smiling at the camera, her blonde hair tumbling in ringlets well past her shoulders, “It ain’t looking good for you, Fred. No alibi for either, so far?”

“I coulda been anywhere. That were months ago. I was probably at home, asleep.”

“Got anyone to vouch for that? A girlfriend? Wife?” Ray pressed.

“Nah, I live alone,” Fred muttered, “But I don’t recognise her. You reckon I killed her, an’ all?”

“Another copper,” Ray snarled, “She was walkin’ ‘ome from work and was attacked from behind. Bit cowardly, that. Attacking a defenceless woman from behind. Why’d you do it, Fred? You fractured her wrist whilst you raped ‘er.”

Fred was shaking his head vehemently, “Nah, didn’t do that. I never seen this girl in my life.”

Ray and Gene glanced at each other. Nothing they seemed to say was getting a reaction out of him.

“Fine,” Gene continued, “Movin’ on. Where were you on the night of 10th December last year, just after 8pm?” Once again Fred shrugged.

“I work in a kitchen. I were probably cookin’.”

Gene nodded to Ray to make a note to get it checked out. It was the first real alibi the bastard had given them. If they could corroborate he was working in the kitchen that evening, this likely wasn’t their man.

“Sure you didn’t take a day off?” Gene pressed, “Maybe have a li’l walk by Haggerston Park?”

“Let me guess, another pig get raped?”

Gene went for him. His blood boiled as Fred smirked at them both, like he was in on a secret. Ray grabbed the Guv by the shoulders, pulling him back before he could touch the bastard.

“Brenda Fryer was attacked on her way to her car. Someone put a knife to her throat and raped her.”

“Well it weren’t me!” Fred snarled back, “Can I have a ciggie?”

Gene almost refused, however on second thought denying him a fag might make him clam up even more. He fished into his jacket until he brought out his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Fred. The little scrote took one and placed it in his mouth. Ray leaned over to light it for him.

“Let’s try another date, shall we?” Gene looked down to his notes, “28th December of last year. Between the hours of eleven and three. Doin’ anything special?”

Fred leaned back in his chair, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. He looked between Gene and Ray, before blowing smoke out of his mouth, “I would’ve been working at the restaurant on the 28th. Busy time of year for punters coming in for a nice meal.”

“And what time do you close the kitchen?”

“Dunno, about elevenish?”

“Plenty of time for you to drive to a Southwark nightclub and rape WDC Melissa Patel, then?” Gene smirked as Fred’s expression soured, “You do own a car, don’t you Fred?”

“Yeah I do.”

“What type of car is that, then?”

“A Vauxhall Astra. Blue.”

“Reg number?”

Fred narrowed his eyes, “W716 DCT.”

Ray made a note of it.

“See, it ain’t hard giving us some info, is it? So were you in Southwark on that date, Freddy?”

“No. I weren’t there.”

Time to try a different tactic.

“Cut up onions on your job as a sous chef?”

“You what?”

“’e asked if you cut up a lot of onions on the job,” Ray cut in, icy blue eyes staring him down.

Fred shrugged, looking more and more uncomfortable.

“Not a difficult question, do you cut up onions?”

“Sure, I cut up onions. It’s a French restaurant, ain’t it? Frogs love their onions.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ray make another note in his pad. Finally, it felt like they were getting somewhere.

“Shall we move onto the most recent attack?” Gene questioned, seeing Ray stiffen beside him, “I’m sure you’ll remember where you were for this one.”

Taking a deep breath Gene continued, “Where were you last night, 3rd February and early 4th February, between the hours of 10pm and 2am?”

There was a long pause as Fred chewed his bottom lip, “I were at home. Went to bed ‘bout midnight and didn’t wake up ‘til eight this mornin’.”

“I don’t believe you. I think you went after your next victim,” Gene snarled, hands clenched into tight fists.

Fred smirked again, stubbing out the cigarette on the ashtray, “Nah, it weren’t me. It were a bit nippy last night, not sure I would’ve been able to get it up!”

Gene stood abruptly, grabbing Fred by the lapels of his shirt and dragging him out of the chair until they were stood nose to nose.

“Stop bloody lyin’!” He yelled.

“I ain’t lyin’!” Fred screamed back, trying to wriggle out of the Guv’s hold, “You ain’t got any evidence. Just cos I don’t have an alibi, it don’t mean I did it!”

Gene threw him back down into the chair. The blood roared in his ears. The only thing he could think about was the look on Alex’s in the interview room last night, bloody tear tracks streaking down her cheeks, holding herself so she wouldn’t fall apart. He could still hear her heart wrenching sobs as she’d collapsed into Gene’s arms, clinging to him for dear life.

“So who was this one then? Another copper?”

Jaw clenched, Gene slowly sat back down. He didn’t have a photo of her. Shaz had given him her freshly typed up statement. It stared up at him.

“DI Alex Drake was about to head home for the night,” Gene said, voice cracking on her name, “When she was attacked in the car park of Fenchurch East. She was chloroformed and taken to an alleyway where she was brutally raped.”

Fred tilted his head thoughtfully, “Fenchurch East? Ah, I see. She were one of yours. Not very clever of you lot, letting a copper bird walkin’ around on her own when there’s a rapist about, is there?”

Gene snarled. His fist connected with Fred’s face, throwing him backwards over the chair.

"Guv!" Ray cried as Gene pulled back his arm to pummel the living daylights out of this scum bastard.

Gene paused, looking towards the sergeant and stopped himself.

“’e walked into a bloody door,” Gene muttered as Fred clutched his bloody nose, “Book ‘im and put him in the shittiest cell we ‘ave.”

“Yes, Guv,” Ray nodded, dragging the man up and out of the interview room.

Checking the clock, he noted that it was well after six and he’d promised Alex he would visit her this evening. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Gene let out a long breath and tried to calm his racing heart. The bastard was guilty, his gut feeling was telling him so. The only problem is all of their evidence was circumstantial at best. They’d have to request a search warrant on Fred’s property and hope to God there was something he was hiding there that was worth sticking.

However, for now, the scum would sit in the cells until the morning. They had 48 hours to release or charge him. Plenty of time.

By the time Gene had gathered the evidence to put in a request for a search warrant it was nearing eight. Exhausted, he stood from his desk and headed down to the car park where his Quattro faithfully sat. It wasn’t a long drive to Luigi’s and he craved a cold pint, however he bypassed the restaurant and headed up the stairs.

PC Jameson was sat outside of Alex’s apartment, staring at the wall opposite. He stood to attention when he saw Gene walk out of the stairwell.

“Guv,” He said.

“She wouldn’t even allow you in?” Gene said, looking between the plod and the door.

“No, Guv. She wanted to be alone.”

“I see. Well stand down, Jameson. You can head off home now.”

“Thanks, Guv. See you in the morning.”

With that, the young PC left Gene in the corridor. Once he was sure the man had gone, he walked to Drake’s door and knocked softly. He could hear the faint murmuring the TV inside but nothing more. After a few seconds there was click of the locks and the door opened a fraction. Alex had left the chain on as she peered through the crack. When she saw it was Gene, the closed the door, released the chain and then reopened it wide enough for Gene to step through the threshold.

“Evening, Drakey.”

“Guv. I was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.”

She was smiling but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She’d changed out of her previous clothes and was now in a large, baggy jumper and loose pyjama bottoms. She looked unsure of herself as they walked deeper into the flat, switching off the TV as she passed it and sank into the sofa. Placing a pillow over her stomach she glanced at Gene.

“Got any booze?” He asked, looking around the small kitchenette.

“Wine in the fridge.” He grabbed a couple of glasses from the cupboard and uncorked the half-open bottle from the fridge, “Oh, no, none of me, thanks.”

Gene paused, then placed one glass back in the cupboard. Alex usually enjoyed a drink. She was so keen on the booze that she often drunk Ray and Chris under the table. Nevertheless, he poured a seldom glass for himself and swigged it back in one go, then poured himself some more. He joined Alex at the sofa. She was watching him with guarded eyes.

“How you doin’, Alex?” He asked softly.

“No need to coddle me, Gene,” She muttered, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “I’m the same person I was yesterday.”

Gene wasn’t sure what to say to that. To him, she had changed. He hadn’t missed the way she had double checked she’d locked the door behind them, or the way she unconsciously put distance between them on the sofa, or how she refused a drink when usually she was the first to knock back a glass.

“That didn’t answer my question,” He finally said, trying to meet her gaze. She was looking anywhere but him.

“I’m _fine_ ,” She insisted, wringing her wrists.

“Sorry to burst yer bubble, but I don’t think you are.”

“Don’t pretend you know what I’m feeling.”

“Why don’t you tell me, then? You insist you’re fine but yer not. For God’s sake, Alex, it's been less than twenty-four hours.”

“I can’t talk about it. It’s all I’ve been thinking about whilst I’ve been stuck in this bloody flat. I keep remembering how he felt when he was on top of me and it’s making my skin _crawl_. Is that what you want to hear? I can’t stop thinking about the way he grunted or the way he spread my- spread my _legs_ and it makes me want to vomit.” With every new word, Alex’s voice got higher and louder, “I could live with him calling me a slut of a whore. They’re just words. But he knew _our_ name. He made sure to taint that nickname so it can never be used again. That’s not fair Gene. It’s not _fair_.”

At some point she’d started crying again, her shoulders trembling. She hastily wiped away the tears that spilled over her cheeks.

“C’mere,” He said, opening his arms up. Alex didn’t need to be told twice as she sank into his embrace. He pressed a gentle kiss to her crown and rocked her gently as she cried. The very thought of another man hurting Alex reignited the fury he felt when he’d punched Fred earlier.

“Got a lead today,” He said softly when her sobs died down. He felt Alex still in his arms and pull back, “Ray found a chef bloke who ‘ad his brother locked up a few years back for rape.”

“And?” Alex pushed.

“Interviewed ‘im and doesn’t have a single alibi. Getting a search warrant for ‘is flat should be pretty easy. I think we’ve got the bastard, just need the evidence to back it up.”

She narrowed her eyes, “You really think you’ve got him?” Alex was always the first to doubt his gut instinct

“Yeah, ‘e’s a right bastard twat.”

“You need to get me and the rest of the girls to do a photo line-up. I’d remember his eyes, I’m sure I would, if you showed me his mugshot. Was he tall? Taller than you? Skinny? Cockney accent?”

“Woah, hold your horses, woman. I’m in charge of this investigation so don’t you worry your pretty little head, alright? You’ll get your bloody photo line-up, just give us a bit o’ time.” Gene knocked back the rest of the wine, ignoring the burn as it slid down his throat.

“Of course. Sorry, it’s hard to get out of detective mode,” She changed the subject, “How is the team? Shaz?”

“How d’ya think they took it? Not sure Shaz stopped crying and I’ve never seen Ray so furious.”

“I wish they didn’t have to know,” She murmured, “I’d hate for them to treat me differently because of it.”

Gene could understand that. He was already unconsciously being careful of what he said around her and how he touched her. She was in a fragile state of mind but that didn’t mean she needed to be handled like she was made of glass. She deserved better than pity.

“Don’t worry ‘bout them. They’ll soon realise you’re still the same woman when you’re marching about the office like a fruitcake.”

Alex giggled softly and Gene felt something heavy lift of his heart. It was the first genuine smile he’d seen since the event. He’d missed her smile today.

“You ok with me kipping on the sofa tonight?” Gene asked. It had been bloody uncomfortable last night but there was no way in hell he would leave her alone and he certainly wasn’t going to share a bed with her.

Alex was already nodding, perhaps a little too eagerly. Clearly she no longer wanted to be alone either, “I’ll get you some pillows and a duvet.”

Once Alex supplied him with some bedding, they settled down on the sofa and watched the telly. At some point they’d drifted apart again, with Gene sitting with his feet propped up on the coffee table on the left and Alex leaning against the arm of the sofa on the right, legs tucked beneath her.

A few hours later, after the ten o’clock news had just finished, he snuck a glance at Alex, who had finally passed out. Her head rested on the arm of the sofa and she had unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself, breathing softly. Knowing he had to wake her and send her to bed, Gene decided to finish his night-time routine with a visit to the loo and nick her spare toothbrush before heading back into the living room and gently shaking her shoulder.

Alex woke with a start, sitting bolt upright on the sofa.

“Just me, love. Time for bed, eh?” Alex squinted up at Gene, rubbing her eyes.

“Of course. I’ll see you in the morning.” She stood up and walked to her front door, triple checking everything was locked up, before softly padding into her bedroom and shutting the door.

Gene dressed down until he was wearing only his vest and underpants and scrambled under the duvet. He made a mental note to collect some more clothes tomorrow, he’d been in this kit for two days now. With that last thought he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

At first Gene isn’t sure what awoke him. His neck was killing him as he slowly sat upright on the sofa. Disorientated, he looked around Alex’s living room, wondering whether it had just been a loud car outside that had jolted him awake.

It was only as he sat for a few seconds that he heard a noise coming from Alex’s bedroom.

A muffled cry broke the silence and Gene was standing outside of her door in less than two seconds. His hand reached for the doorknob and he was about to turn it when he hesitated. For all his years of experience on the force, he didn’t have much experience with rape victims. Sure, he’d put plenty of rapists behind bars, but that was his job. He never usually had to interact with a victim any more than collecting a witness statement from them.

He second guessed himself, unsure whether Alex would appreciate him barging into her bedroom, half-naked. It might make things worse.

As he was umming and ahhing over what to do, Alex let out another wail that made up his mind. He knocked softly on the door and twisted the knob. Alex was tangled up in her silk sheets, thrashing across the entire of her mattress. There were tears streaked across her cheeks as she kicked out at her imaginary assailant. Gene didn’t need to guess what she was dreaming of.

Approaching the bed, he softly called her name, hoping his voice would rouse her from the nightmare.

“Alex, you need to wake up,” He hissed, “It’s just a dream. ‘e can’t ‘urt you any longer.”

“N-no, no, no. Don’t call me that,” She sobbed, wriggling under the sheets that had trapped her.

Gene sat down beside her and began to gently shake her, “Wake up, Drakey. The Gene Genie is here.”

For a moment he thought he’d have to start shaking her even harder, but then suddenly Alex gasped awake, panting breathlessly.

“Wh-what?” Alex was already moving to sit upright in the bed, looking around the bedroom. Gene flicked on the lamp on the bedside table, making them both squint at the sudden brightness.

“You ok?” He asked, “You were dreamin’.”

“Oh,” Alex reached up and touched her cheeks. Her fingers came away damp, her hands were trembling, “I thought I was back…” She trailed off, not needing to say anymore. They both knew where she thought she’d been.

Gene eyed the clock beside her bed. It flashed 4:17AM back at him.

“Get some more sleep. It’s still arse o’clock right now,” He said, standing from the bed and making a move to go back to the couch.

“ _Stay_.”

Gene paused, looking down at Alex. Her eyes were red rimmed, her body still trembling from the aftershock of the nightmare.

“Just until I get back to sleep. Please?”

Gene sat back down, the mattress sinking beneath him, “A’right, but no funny business, Posh Knickers. You keep to your side o’ the bed.”

That earned him a ghost of a smile as Alex lay back down. He leant against the headboard and switched off the lamp, listening as her breath evened back out. Once ten minutes had passed, he made sure Alex was still fast asleep before standing and padding back out of the bedroom. Alex may have been ok with him sleeping in the same bed as her, but the bedroom was her safe space, and he didn’t want to intrude. She deserved privacy for the time being.

Settling back onto the sofa, Gene braced himself for another uncomfortable few hours of sleep.

* * *

Gene woke to the sound of clattering plates. Groaning, he shifted his arse off the sofa and looked over at the kitchenette. Alex was stood over the toaster, popping a few slices of bread into each slot.

“Mornin’,” Gene uttered, cracking his neck and plodding towards the bathroom.

“Good morning,” Alex said, sounding much chipper than a few hours ago.

“Mind if I use the shower? I’m startin’ to pong.”

“Knock yourself out. Spare towel is on the radiator.”

He shut the door, relieved himself in the toilet, then turned on the shower until it was steaming hot. It felt bloody good to wash off two days’ worth of grime from his body. He’d have to stop in at his house on the way to the office to pick up fresh shirt and trousers. Maybe he’d pack a trunk that had some essentials. He couldn’t imagine leaving Alex for the night for the foreseeable.

Once he’d washed, dressed and brushed his teeth, he sauntered back out of the bathroom. Alex was sat at the small kitchen table, munching on a slice of buttered toast. She pushed a second plate towards him and Gene took it.

“Sorry about last night,” She said, looking embarrassed about even bringing it up, “Nightmares were bound to happen. I have quite the dreams these days.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. Just glad I woke you up when I did.” Gene took a large bite of the toast.

Ten minutes later there was a knock at the door, where a new PC had arrived to take over guarding duties. He thought Alex might’ve protested at being looked after like a child, but she didn’t seem phased at the new routine.

“Right, off to nail this bastard,” Gene said, slipping his driving gloves on, “I’ll be back tonight. No gettin’ in any trouble.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Guv,” She responded cheekily.

* * *

Gene was the last one to arrive in the office as he had stopped off to collect some more clothes and toiletries from his flat. He was making a habit of this.

“Search warrant?” Gene asked Ray as he passed his desk.

“Ready when you are, Guv.”

“Righto. Ray and Chris, let’s mush.”

The drive to Fred Daniels flat took twenty minutes. There were plods already on the scene, awaiting instruction. Gene stepped out of the Quattro, eyeing the block of flats with disdain.

“We’re lookin’ for anything that can nail this bastard for the rapes of our fellow officers. Chloroform, knives, souvenirs of the victims. If you spot anything suspicious, give me a shout.”

There was a chorus of “yes guvs” before everyone headed up the stairs. Gene did the honours of kicking the bastard’s door down.

“We ‘ad a key, Guv,” Chris said.

“I bloody know we ‘ad a key, Christopher. I weren’t obligated to use it.”

They got to work searching the pokey flat that Fred Daniels called home. Ray started in the kitchen, Chris was in the living room and Gene entered the bedroom. His bed was unmade and dirty clothes scattered the floor. Pursing his lips, he began searching through his bedside tables and finding nothing of note. He moved onto the wardrobes, slinging more clothes onto the floor.

There was a hamper in the corner that was brimming with dirty clothes. Gene beckoned a plod over.

“Put all o’ this in evidence bags and get them sent down for forensics.”

He hadn’t been wearing the chef whites when he’d attacked Alex, so any of these items of clothing could’ve been what he was wearing that night. She’d also said he’d been wearing a dark jacket with a hood.

“Anyone got a coat with an ‘ood?” Gene called to the others.

“In ‘ere, Guv. Back of the door,” Came Chris’s voice from the living room.

“Get it bagged up.”

“Yes, Guv.”

Gene rifled through a few more drawers but found nothing of importance.

“Guv.”

Ray. Gene turned on his heel and met Ray in the door to the kitchen.

“What?”

“Bastard has a million knives. Do we know what we’re lookin’ for?”

Gene examined the contents of the kitchen. There was a knife block in the corner that was half full. The sink had a couple along with some plates and other cutlery.

“S’pose ‘e is a chef,” Gene muttered, “The blade ‘e used in the attacks was less than two inches in length, not serrated. Black ‘andle, according to Kat Jacobs.”

“Right,” Ray muttered, “I’ll bag ‘em up and get ‘em down to forensics.”

“Good man. Anyone found some chloroform lyin’ around? Perhaps a ponging rag?”

A mutter of “no guvs” echoed through the flat and Gene cursed under his breath.

He began searching the bathroom cupboards, pulling out boxes of paracetamol, condoms, toothpaste tubes and dental floss. No chloroform.

“Anything in the living room, Christopher?” Gene called, chucking the contents of the sink cabinet on the floor.

“Nothin’ in ‘ere, Guv.”

Cursing under his breath he paced the flat.

“Where’s ‘is car? Anyone searched that yet?” The plods nearest to him shook their heads. Sighing, Gene glanced at the key hook that was nailed to the wall by the front door and spotted the car keys hanging on the first hook along.

“Here we are then. Christopher, with me.”

Chris followed him out of the flat and back down the steps into the car park. Walking through the parked police cars he scanned the lot for the blue Astra. It was nestled between a beige Austin Metro and a red Ford Fiesta. Walking up to the driver’s side, Gene inserted the key and turned the lock until it clicked.

At a first glance there was nothing untoward about the car. Gene reached over to the passenger side and opened up the glovebox whilst Chris opened the boot.

There was a scrap of paper inside the compartment that Gene grabbed and unfolded. A list of police stations and their addresses were scrawled in what Gene presumed was Fred’s messy handwriting. The top of the list started with Bishopsgate station, then Snow Hill, and halfway down the list was Fenchurch East, all of which had been crossed through. A few more stations that hadn’t yet been targeted were next.

“Bloody ‘ell, I think we’ve got the bastard,” Gene said, “Found anything, Chris?” There was no response, and then a thump of something hitting the ground, “Christopher?”

Gene hastily placed the note in an evidence bag and moved to the back of the car where he had last seen Chris. He found DS Skelton laying motionless on the ground with a dirty rag still clutched in his hands.

“Bloody ‘ell Chris, when I ask you find the chloroform rag I weren’t expecting you to sniff it!” He carefully took the rag from his hands and placed it in another evidence bag before digging his radio out of his jacket pocket.

“Raymundo? We’ve got what we’ve been lookin’ for. I’ll meet you back at the Quattro. Let the plods finish off ‘ere.”

“Copy that, Guv,” Came Ray’s grainy response.

The Guv shook his head at Chris before scooping him up and throwing him over his shoulder. He staggered back to the Audi and was almost tempted to dump him in the boot. Before Gene had a chance to flip it open, a confused looking Ray appeared.

“Uh, what’s wrong with Chris?”

“Bloody ‘ell Carling, where do you start? I reckon his mam dropped him as a baby with the amount of brain cells ‘e has.”

Ray gave him a withering look.

“He had the bright idea of sniffing a dirty rag in the boot of Fred Daniels’ motor. He went out like a bloody light.”

Ray cackled as he helped the Guv manhandle Chris into the back seats before they drove back to the station.

“So it’s ‘im then?” Ray asked, lighting up a ciggie, “’e is the bastard rapist?”

“Not sure the evidence could be any clearer. It’s ‘im alright, but we need to put together a good case before we charge him. Has ‘is mugshot been developed yet?”

“Aye, should be on your desk this afternoon,” Ray checked his notepad, “Only other thing we need to do is head down to that restaurant of ‘is and find out if he was workin’ the night of 10th December.”

“Good man, once Wonder Chris wakes up you can take ‘im with you.”

They pulled up back at the station just as Chris was starting to come to.

“Blimey, what happened?” Chris groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head.

“You took a nice trip down the yellow brick road. Up and at ‘em, Skelton. Ray’s drivin’ you to Fred’s restaurant.”

They all left the car, with Gene parting with the two detectives as he headed back inside the station. Entering the CID office, he placed the evidence bags on Shaz’s desk, instructing her to send them off to forensics pronto before beelining for his office. With a groan, Gene sat back in his chair. They’d got him, they just need to make the case watertight.

Kicking up his legs onto the desk, Gene let his gaze drift towards Alex’s desk. He missed their arguments, with her skinny arse swinging in his direction. She had been so desperate to get back to work, but Gene knew her well enough to know that she was in no fit state to even be on desk duty. Lighting up a cigarette, Gene averted his eyes to the double doors of CID, where Shaz was coming back in. She headed straight for his lair, tapping lightly on the glass.

“Yes?”

“Post arrived for you, Guv.”

She placed an envelope on his desk which Gene didn’t hesitate to rip open. Fred Daniels’ mugshot stared back at him. He looked up at Shaz who was hovering in the doorway.

“Granger, grab some mugshots out of the archive, ones that DI Drake hasn’t dealt with in the past. Then get on the blower to Katherine Jacobs, Brenda Fryer, Melissa Patel and Drakey so they can identify the bastard.”

“Yes, Guv.”

Shaz was a thorough worker, particularly without Chris to distract her. It was less than an hour that she arrived back in his office with a collection of photos.

“Kat Jacobs is at the front desk, sir.”

Gene stood to go greet her and then hesitated. He hadn’t spent much time with Kat but he knew she’d been through quite the ordeal with the rape. Alex was always better at being the soothing voice that calmed the girls’ nerves, but without her Gene wondered whether he might need a feminine touch.

“Change of plan, Granger. You can come help the Gene Genie nail this bastard.”

Shaz’s face lit up and she quickly grabbed her notepad from her desk and followed Gene to the front desk. WPC Katherine Jacobs was still in her uniform, with her hair tied up in a tight bun. She glanced up as Gene and Shaz entered the room and her eyes flickered with recognition. She quickly stood, brushing her skirt down.

“Sir.”

“Would you like a cuppa, Kat?” Gene offered, and she smiled tightly and nodded.

“Oh, that’d be grand. Splash of milk, one sugar.”

Shaz was already rushing to the kitchen as Gene escorted Kat to an interview room.

“Is there news? I was beginning to worry you weren’t gonna catch the guy,” Kat asked as she sat down at the table.

“We think we’ve got ‘im, but we need your ‘elp.”

A moment later Shaz appeared with a steaming mug filled to the brim with tea and a couple of garibaldis. She placed it in front of Kat before taking a seat beside Gene.

“This is WPC Shaz, she’ll be helping out today,” Gene introduced, and Kat nodded as she wrapped her hands around the mug and brought it to her lips, blowing the steam away. Gene indicated to Shaz to begin recording, so she pressed the play button on the tape recorder. It clicked.

“Interview conducted on the 5th Feburary at 1:17pm. Present is DCI Gene Hunt, WPC Sharon Granger and WPC Katherine Jacobs.”

Gene opened up his file which contained ten photographs of ten different men.

“We think we’ve got your rapist in one of these photos, Kat,” Gene said, laying them out in front of the girl, “It would be greatly appreciated if you could identify him out of these men.” He placed Fred Daniels’ mugshot in the third position.

Kat’s eyes flickered down to the photos, eyes skimming across each face.

“Take as long as you like,” Shaz stepped in, smiling warmly,

Her breath hitched as her eyes stuttered over one of the men.

“It was so long ago,” Kat whispered, “But I still remember his eyes. They haunt me in my dreams. They were close together, quite light. Hard to really see them as it was so dark but…”

“Yes, love?” Gene prompted.

Kat picked up the third photo, scrutinising it closely.

“It’s him. This is him.”

Gene glanced at the tape recorder, “For the record, Kat has identified photo number three as her assailant. Interview stopped at 1:26pm.”

Shaz pressed the stop button and Kat placed the photo back on the table.

“Was I right? Is this him?” She asked desperately.

“You nailed it, Kat.”

They escorted her out of the interview room and back to the front desk, where Fred’s next victim was sitting, waiting.

“Ah, Brenda,” Gene smiled, “Would you like a brew?”

The next two interviews with victims number two and three were conducted in much the same way as Katherine’s. Brenda had been more cautious and flustered about the photos and was unable to pick Fred’s face from the list. Melissa, on the other hand, was the fastest of the lot of them. As soon as Fred’s photo was placed in the table she recognised him immediately.

As they said their goodbyes to Melissa, Gene spotted Alex walking in, accompanied by the plod he’d left her with that morning.

“DI Drake,” Gene said warmly.

Shaz smiled widely at the sight of her boss and didn’t hesitate to envelope her in a hug. Alex smiled back, wrapping her arms around Granger in return.

“Ma’am, it’s good to see you.”

“And you, Shaz. I’ve missed the office.”

“Well now that you two have caught up, shall we take a stroll to the interview room? We’ve got some photos for you to look at, Drakey,” Gene cut in.

“Hang on, you’re bringing Shaz into the interview rooms? Am I being _replaced_ , Guv?” She teased.

“Carry on like that and you will be. C’mon, move your arse.”

They entered the room, Shaz pressing a steaming cup of tea into Alex’s hands. She uttered her thanks, taking a long sip.

“How are you, ma’am?”

“I’m holding it together although being stuck in my flat is driving me a bit crazy. Maybe you could swing by later to keep me company?”

“Oh that sounds fab. I’ll have to bring Chris though, seeing as he’s on guard duty.”

Alex grinned, “Maybe you could leave him drinking downstairs. I’m sure Gene would be happy to join him.”

“If you’re quite done?” Gene cut in before pressing the record button and stating the date and time just like he’d done before. Once again, he lay the photos on the table towards Alex, letting her study the faces.

Alex was much more careful and considered than Katherine or Melissa. She spent a lot longer taking each photo in her hands and scrutinising each face. He could almost see the cogs turning in that strange little brain of hers as she picked up the third photo, however she didn’t say a word as she moved onto the fourth. By the time she’d examined all ten photos they had been sitting in the room for at least twenty minutes.

“Well?” Gene demanded.

“It’s number three. You’ve got him, Guv,” Alex said with absolute conviction.

Clicking off the recorder, Gene smiled grimly to the two women, “Looks like we’ve got a hat-trick, ladies. Thank you very much, Lady B.”

They all stood from the table, however Alex had now picked up Fred’s mugshot, staring at it intensely.

“Problem?” He asked.

“No, it’s just- It’s such a relief, that you’ve got him, but I thought I would feel something else when I look at his photo. I thought there would be closure.”

Gene watched his DI as she turned the photo in her hands. It was still less than two days since the attack and she’d been pinning her hopes on this being the key to her moving on from it. Things didn’t work like that.

“Give it time, your bruises haven’t even ‘ealed yet.”

Alex nodded shakily and followed them out of the room. As they said their goodbyes, with Shaz tightly hugging Alex again, Ray and Chris appeared.

“Oh, ma’am!” Chris said, “It’s good to see you, up and about, like.”

“It’s good to see you both,” Alex said.

“What did the restaurant ‘ave to say?” Gene turned to the two of them.

“Fred Daniels didn’t turn up to work on the night Brenda Fryer was attacked so there’s not a single alibi for the bastard,” Ray was smiling.

“Fan-bloody-tastic. Just need to hear back from forensics and then we’ll have a little chat with Fred Daniels.”

* * *

There was a positive buzz within the walls of CID by the end of the day. It was a stark contrast to the previous day and Gene was feeling confident. Five o’clock ticked by and Gene grabbed his coat and exited his office. Ray, Shaz and Chris looked up from their desks, expectant.

“You’ve all done well today,” Gene said, pulling on his leather gloves, “And I’m sure DI Drake will also be proud. Tomorrow we’ll charge the bastard who dared lay a finger on our coppers and he’ll rot behind bars for the rest of his sorry little life.”

There were jeers of agreement from the team before Gene turned to head out.

“Oh, Guv?” Shaz called after him, “I promised ma’am that I would see her tonight. You don’t mind, do you?”

Gene spun and nodded, “Not at all, Granger. If anyone needs me, I’ll be ‘aving a pint at Luigi’s.”

* * *

Settling into his favourite spot in the corner of Luigi’s restaurant, Gene took a long sip of his pint as he watched a few of his team members filter through the door. Shaz had already made a beeline up the stairs to see Alex whilst Chris and Ray ordered a drink at the bar before pulling up a pew at the table beside the Guv’s.

“Blimey Chris,” Ray exclaimed, “What the bloody ‘ell is on your neck?”

Ray was cackling as he lit up a cigarette while Chris blushed a deep red, covering the love bite that sat just beneath his collar.

“Leave off, it’s nothin’.”

“Don’t look like nothin’ to me. So you really are slipping ‘er one?”

“Ey! Don’t talk ‘bout her like that.”

“I’m only teasin’. Bet you’re gonna miss being Shaz’s body guard.”

Chris hummed in agreement, “It’s been nice actually. I thought about askin’ her to move in with me. Make it proper official, like.”

“Good on yer, Christopher,” Gene piped up, “You did well keeping an eye on her.”

“Thanks Guv.”

“I didn’t tell you about that nice blonde I met on Saturday, did I?” Ray changed the subject and Gene tuned out. He didn’t need to hear about Ray’s latest catch, no matter how large her breasts were. As Gene took another swig of his beer, he spotted movement in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw Shaz walk through the threshold, holding hands with no other than Alex.

She looked much better than yesterday. The scar on her cheek was still obvious but it had darkened from the ugly red it had been the previous day. She’d made a bit of effort with her hair, curling it so it fell nicely over her cheek to cover up the worst of her injury. She hadn’t got into anything skimpy, just a simple pair of jeans and a thick jumper, and she’d foregone her usual heels with some slip-ons instead. Alex’s eyes searched the room until her gaze landed on the Guv’s. She smiled and waved with her free hand, before letting herself be led to the bar with Shaz.

They pulled back a couple of stools and Luigi served Alex with a glass of water and Shaz a glass of red wine. Gene watched them for a moment, giggling together at something Alex had said, before averting his gaze. Shaz had done well today in the interview rooms, and wondered whether a promotion would be in order soon. Alex would be thrilled; she had mentored Shaz since day one and never had a bad thing to say about her.

As the night went on, Gene let himself drift in and out of conversations between Ray and Chris before Alex took herself from the bar and plonked herself at the table with Gene.

“’Ello, you,” He said, “Enjoying your water?”

“It’s very refreshing,” Alex smiled, taking a sip from her glass. Shaz had joined Chris and Ray at the table beside them.

“Did you ‘ave a nice chinwag with Granger?”

“Oh it was eye opening,” She laughed, a glint in her eyes. For a second Gene could pretend the last few days hadn’t happened. That she was back to her usual Bolly self. He shook the thought away. She was no longer Bolly, or Bols.

“Surprised to see you down here. Shaz convince you to come?”

“I was desperate to get away from my flat, actually. There’s only so much eighties television I can live with. What I would give for a laptop or Sky.”

“A what-top?”

Alex smiled, as though she was in on a secret joke, “Don’t worry, Guv. You’ll find out one day.”

Bloody woman was as mad as a March hare. Gene huffed in response and took a swig of beer from his glass.

Another hour went by with idle conversation before Alex stood to finally call it a night. Gene drained the remainder of his beer and offered his hand to her, which she took graciously, before bidding the rest of the team goodnight.

They headed upstairs together where they got into their usual night-time routine. Gene hadn’t felt this domestic since he’d been living with the ex-wife back in the seventies. Once they’d both brushed their teeth and got changed, Alex joined him on the sofa as Gene drank a small nightcap.

Sitting in comfortable silence, Gene found himself meeting Alex’s eyes.

“I could go home if you wanted,” He found himself saying, “You’re safe now that Fred Daniels is rotting down in the cells.”

A strange look crossed Alex’s face that Gene couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“I was never scared of him coming back, I was scared of being alone. There’s something about you, Gene Hunt, something that makes me feel safe. Ever since I came into this mad world, you were the one constant here that I could rely on.”

Gene didn’t understand half of what she was babbling on about, but he took it as a compliment nonetheless. He may have failed her two nights ago, but if he could help keep Alex feeling safe from now on then at least he was doing something right.

“Is that a long way to say you’re ok with me kipping on your sofa?” Gene finally said, earning a laugh from Drake.

“Yes, you can sleep on the sofa.”

* * *

Gene regretted sleeping on the sofa. Three nights of uncomfortable positions and stiff necks were starting to take its toll on the Mancunian Lion. He woke just after seven after a restless eight hours, stiff as a board and not very happy. He hadn’t heard a peep out of Alex all night, which he presumed could only mean good things.

After he used the bathroom, Gene was brewing himself and Alex a cuppa when she appeared from the bedroom. Looking up, he narrowed his eyes and frowned. She looked worse than yesterday. Her skin was pale and clammy, her hair in disarray and eyes were bloodshot. As he stirred three heaped teaspoons of sugar into his tea, Gene wondered whether he had simply been too tired to hear Alex’s screams last night. Perhaps the nightmares had kept her up and he had no idea.

Alex didn’t seem to be in the mood for talking as she headed straight into the bathroom. A minute later and he heard the stream of water as she turned on the shower. Frowning to himself, he left her tea on the side and moved back to the sofa to drink his own. He was really starting to hate this bloody sofa. It was no wonder Alex wanted to get away from the flat and back into work.

Twenty minutes later and the shower was still running. Starting to get a bit concerned, Gene placed his finished mug on the coffee table and walked to the bathroom door, knocking softly.

“Alex? You alright in there?” No reply. Gene knocked a little louder, “If you don’t answer, I’m comin’ in, so you better make yerself presentable.”

When there was still no response, he turned the handle of the door and thanked his lucky stars that it was unlocked. A puff of steam welcomed him as he walked into the bathroom. The room was so foggy he could barely see a foot in front of him. The shower was still running at full blast, so he headed in the direction of the noise. Reaching the bathtub, it became clear that Alex was not alright.

She sat beneath the heavy stream of the water, forehead resting on her bony knees, arms loosely wrapped around her shins. Her shoulders wracked with almost-silent sobs, her skin was flaming red from the heat of the water. Reaching across her, he turned the knob of the shower until the water turned off. He then grabbed a towel from the rail and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Let’s get you out of the tub, eh?”

Alex didn’t appear to have heard him as she dug her nails into the flesh of her arms.

“You’re ‘urting yourself. C’mon, up you come.” Gene attempted to lift her from under her armpits, dignity be damned, but Alex flinched away from him violently.

“No no,” She muttered under breath, “Get away from me.”

Alex clearly had no idea where she was and was presumably reliving the moment of her attack. Her eyes seemed hauntingly vacant as she looked around the room, as though seeing demons who weren’t there. Gene weighed up his options as he gazed down at the trembling woman before him. He was hesitant to manhandle her out of the bath, worried she may attack him and hurt herself in the process. The only other option was the ride it out until she became aware of her surroundings again.

Readjusting the towel around her shoulders, Gene sank to his knees behind her.

“C’mon Alex, you’re a fighter. Look around. Wherever you think you are, you need to fight it. We’re in your flat. In the bloody bathtub, in fact. An’ my knees are getting soaked.”

Gene continued with his stream of words, desperate to bring Alex back from whatever nightmare she was living in her head. He reached out and gently took her hand, rubbing circles across her skin with his thumb.

At some point she had started to shiver.

After a few patient minutes, Alex shifted slightly. Stopping his mantra of “You’re ok, you’re in your bathroom, wake up” he searched her eyes. There was a bit of clarity returning to them as she gazed around the room. Confusion was clear across her face.

“Gene?” She whispered, and he sighed in relief.

“Back in the world of the living, I take it?”

Alex suddenly realised what predicament she was in. She looked down at her naked body and a crimson flush developed across her cheeks. He had only seen her naked once before, on Christmas Day, but he had dreamt of many more moments like this. This was not the moment to be checking her out, so he was careful to keep his eyes firmly above the shoulders.

“Oh God, what happened?”

“You tell me. You weren’t responding to my knocks and I came in to find you shakin’ like a leaf in the tub.”

As Alex tightening her grip on the towel around her shoulders, Gene realised he probably should leave her to get dressed.

“I’m not sure what happened. I remember the steam was choking me and I couldn’t see a thing. I must’ve panicked and it triggered a flashback.”

With Alex now apparently safe and thinking clearly, Gene stood from the floor, “I’ll leave you to get dressed, then. You alright on yer own?”

Sending him a watery smile, she nodded.

“Sorry you had to see me like that.”

Gene almost retorted that he always appreciated the female figure, then figured that’s probably not what she meant. There was a time and a place for flirty remarks like that, and this was certainly not the time nor the place.

“Just as long as you’re alright.”

With the final remark, he left the bathroom to give Alex a little bit of privacy. The wall clock in the kitchen reminded him that it was well after eight o’clock, meaning he didn’t have much time before he’d need to head into the office. Today was going to be a big day for him. With all the evidence they’d collected, he was ready to have one last chat with Fred Daniels in a hope to pull a confession out of him.

Alex had slipped out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, leaving Gene to get washed and dressed.

They reconvened at the kitchenette, where Alex quickly did them a couple of slices of toast, smothered in a generous amount of butter. They ate silently until there as a knock at the door, announcing the arrival of a plod to watch Alex’s flat.

“When are you going to stop with the babysitting?” Alex asked through mouthfuls of toast.

“You weren’t complaining last night.”

“Yes, it’s nice to have your company in the evenings and overnight, but I really don’t think I need someone watching my door all day. Is that really conducive to the PC’s time?”

“One more day, just until we charge Fred Daniels.”

“Fine, but then I’m perfectly ok on my own.”

Gene raised an eyebrow, deciding not to pick an argument with her. She didn’t seem ok this morning, on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the shower.

“Maybe ‘ok’ is not the right word, but it’s not like a PC outside of the door is going to help me if I have another panic attack,” Alex backtracked after noticing the look Gene was giving her.

“Either way, it’ll put my own mind at rest if there’s someone here, just in case.”

With that, Gene wolfed down the rest of his breakfast before opening the door to greet the PC. He grabbed his coat and slipped it on before turning back to Alex.

“I’ll see you later. Keep out of trouble.”

“Good luck,” She responded.

With one last nod, Gene left the flat and headed downstairs.

* * *

CID had a quiet buzz as Gene walked through the double doors. Chris was on the phone, Shaz was busy typing up notes and Ray was inspecting a document while smoking a cigarette. When he spotted Gene had walked in, he stood up and passed the documents into him.

“Forensics came back. There was blood on one of the knives I’d nabbed back at the flat an’ the rag Chris sniffed out was saturated with chloroform.”

“Brilliant news, Raymondo. I think you and I better have a little chat with Fred Daniels.”

“I’ll go get him, Guv.”

Gathering up the evidence, Gene made his way to the interview room whilst Ray went to collect the bastard from the cells. He’d been appointed a lawyer, who had arrived just before Fred did. Gene hadn’t dealt with him before, but he looked like a smarmy git with his perfectly-fitting suit and large frame glasses.

“Nice to meet your, Mr. Hunt,” The lawyer said, reaching out to shake his hand, “I’m Oliver Wilkinson and will be representing Mr. Daniels today.”

Gene nodded and said nothing as Ray pushed Daniels into the room. Sadly, with a lawyer present, there was no way Gene could get another punch to his stupid little face. Fred was shoved into the seat beside his lawyer. He was sporting a thick lip and a nasty black eye from when Gene had attacked him the day before last. He inspected his handywork, a grim smile on his face, before hitting the record button on the tape.

“The date is 6th February, 9:37am. Present in the room is DCI Gene Hunt, DS Ray Carling, Fred Daniels and Oliver Wilkinson. Have you ‘ad any thought about a confession yet, Freddy?”

Fred glanced at his lawyer, who spoke on his behalf, “My client did not do the crimes you say he committed.”

“I beg to differ,” Gene brought out the knife wrapped in an evidence bag, “Is this your knife, Fred?”

Fred shrugged.

“We found it in your kitchen.”

“Maybe it is.”

“It’s got dried blood on the blade. Did you use this knife to attack DI Alex Drake on the 3rd February?”

“A knife with blood on the blade in a kitchen is hardly groundbreaking, DCI Hunt,” Wilkinson cut in, “Fred Daniels is a chef and would regularly cut up meat for cooking.”

Narrowing his eyes at the lawyer, Gene pulled out the next piece of evidence: the slip of paper from Fred’s glovebox.

“Here is a handwritten list we found in your car. Can you tell us why you’ve got a list of police stations and their addresses?”

Fred eyed the list then shrugged, “Jus’ in case I get into trouble, I’ll know where to go.”

“So why ‘ave you crossed through the top ones?” Gene pointed to Fenchurch West as an example. After a moment’s silence, he continued, “I think you wrote out every police station in the area to target. You planned to rape officers from every single one of these stations, but you got caught before you could finish through. Am I right, Fred?”

“No comment.”

Gritting his teeth, Gene brought out the final piece of evidence from the car. The dirty cloth.

“Is this yours, Mr. Daniels?” Silence. “We found this piece of fabric in the boot of your car. Forensics ‘ave confirmed it was drenched in chloroform. Enough chloroform to knock a woman out for a few minutes. Now, if you ask me, this is very damning evidence. We’ve got two weapons, a list written by you with your targeted police stations and we’ve got a motive. So, Mr. Daniels, are you gonna start cooperatin’?”

Fred’s hands curled into fists as he stared down at the cloth.

“You weren’t expectin’ to get caught so easily, were you Freddy? You thought you were invincible. Leavin’ evidence like this laying around was just clumsy, but you didn’t think we’d find you,” Gene leaned forward, close enough to smell the bastard’s breath, “We’ve got more, though. Our lovely women police detectives picked your face out of a photo line-up, and they’re willin’ to testify in court. It’s not lookin’ good for you, Freddy-boy.”

There was always a moment when Gene knew he’d nailed a case. There was always a look of resignment in the suspect’s face as they were backed into a corner and realised there was no way out. He watched as Fred’s expression turned from hatred, to fear, to despair, and finally resignment. Before he could utter out a confession, Wilkinson placed a hand on his shoulder.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to my client alone.”

Gene knew what this meant. He’d confess and hope to get a shorter sentence. With a murder and five rapes under his belt, Gene knew this bastard wouldn’t see daylight again. The judge would not be kind to scum like him.

Pushing back his chair, Gene paused the tape and left the room with Ray in toe.

“We’ve got ‘im by the short and curlies!” Ray said excitedly, “You’ve done it, Guv.”

“Let’s just hope the bastard is clever enough to confess. Those women don’t need this dragged through court,” Gene muttered, lighting up a cigarette to calm his nerves. He took a long drag, the rush of nicotine immediately relaxing him.

“Aye, you’ve got that right.”

After ten minutes, Wilkinson appeared at the door and they re-entered the room. Daniels was looking much worse for wear than when they last saw him. His hair was ruffled, eyes bloodshot. Gene felt a grim sense of satisfaction to see the bastard so rattled.

“Anything you want to say, Daniels?” Gene said as he turned the recorder back on.

“I did it,” Fred blurted out, “I raped them girls.”

Gene and Ray looked at one another before sitting back down in the chairs.

“Let’s start with Harriet West, shall we?”

* * *

Many hours later, with a formal verbal and written confession from Fred Daniels, Gene was exhausted.

Gene stood at the front desk as they arranged transfer to a high security prison. There was no way this bastard was getting bail after the crimes he committed. A couple of plods came to escort him away, but Gene held up his hand for them to wait.

He took a few steps towards him, until he was nose-to-nose with Fred Daniels.

“You are a rotten piece of work, Daniels,” He snarled quietly, “And if it were up to me, I would ‘ave you strung up outside the station to set an example to other scumbags like you.”

Fred met his steady, fiery gaze and smirked. He leaned forward until his lips were by Gene’s ear.

“Does she dream of me? That DI of yours. I bet she does. She was the best fuck out of the lot of them. Such a tight-”

There was a sudden crash as Gene headbutted the bastard in the face. Everyone at the front desk turned to the sound of the commotion as Gene pushed Fred into the wall and brought a knee up to his bollocks, earning a high-pitched squeal out of him.

“Shut the _hell_ up,” Gene snarled, but Fred was still laughing as blood dripped down his nose and into his mouth.

“She’s damaged, Hunt. I watched her as she broke. Don’t matter how long it’s been, you’ll never be able to touch ‘er again.”

Gene’s fist collided with his gut and the man spluttered and wheezed. For good measure he pummelled a few more times before releasing the bastard.

“Take him away.”

Gene turned on his heel, desperate to get away from him.

“Oi! I’m not finished tellin’ you!” Fred shouted after his retreating form, “I own Alex Drake. I _own_ her!”

Sick to his stomach, Gene could still hear his screams as he stormed down the corridor and into the gents. A couple of fellas doing their business caught sight of Gene’s face and hastily pulled up their flies and left the room. Shaking from fury, the Guv punched the stall door, hissing from pain. It wasn’t enough. He punched it again, and again, and again. Letting out a yell, he kicked the bench for good measure. Then sank into it, head in his hands.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so undone.

For a few minutes he sat like that, the only sound was the deep pants of his breath. Willing himself to calm down, he wondered what everyone must be thinking out there. If Alex was here, he knew she would’ve marched straight after him into the gents. But she wasn’t here, and no one else dared stand up to the Guv.

He couldn’t get the picture of Alex, broken and bruised, out of his mind. How would she ever be able to get past this? Spending the night with her on Christmas Day had been the single best night of his life. It had been the start of something new and interesting. Gene had hoped to spend many more nights with her.

Now?

Whatever they’d built up in two years of working together had been destroyed by that scumbag. He’d let her down and she would never want him touching her like that again.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, for a moment Gene wished that Sam was still around. As much as he and Sammy Boy had their differences, they had ended up being close friends by the end of it. He would’ve known exactly what to say to make the Guv feel better. In fact, he probably would’ve been able to provide a bit of insight on how to treat Alex – he did have a way with the ladies, after all.

But Sam Tyler wasn’t around anymore and no one else would dare approach the Manc Lion whilst he was like this.

It took Gene several more minutes to bring his heart rate back down to normal. Once he deemed himself calm enough to leave, he stood from the bench and marched out of the gents as though nothing had happened, ignoring the wary looks from station staff as he passed them.

Striding into the office, he pulled open the doors. The entire team stood from their desks and started off a round of applause. They’d done it a million times before after they’d cracked a long case, but this time Gene didn’t feel worthy of their cheers and claps. Was it really a celebration when one of their officers still bore the scars of the attack? Particularly when that very officer got hurt on Gene’s watch.

Uncomfortable with the unwarranted appreciation, Gene nodded his thanks before silently entering his lair.

He poured himself a generous glass of scotch and settled into his chair. Once again, no one dared disturb him.

* * *

Five o’clock rolled around far too quickly for Gene’s liking. He overheard the others talk about meeting up in Luigi’s to celebrate Fred’s arrest, and Gene knew he had no choice but to show face.

He was filled with dread as he watched the others filter out of the office, calling their goodnights to him before they left. After one more stiff drink of scotch, the Guv grabbed his coat and headed into the night.

* * *

Luigi’s was completely crammed when Gene arrived. There were plenty of familiar faces, but also many new ones. Ray beckoned him over to the bar, where he was stood with two unfamiliar men.

“Guv, this is DCI Cooper and DI Brentwood from Snow Hill and Southwark police station,” Ray introduced. Gene shook both their hands, suddenly realising why the restaurant was so packed. It looked like there were coppers from all five stations that had been targeted by Fred Daniels. He supposed it was a weight off all of their shoulders that they’d nabbed the bastard.

“Please, call me Dave,” DCI Cooper smiled warmly, “It’s great news to hear about your arrest. Good work, Gene.”

Gene nodded his thanks, making small talk for a few minutes. Before he could make up an excuse to leave the group, a body sidled up to him.

Alex Drake had pulled out all the stops tonight, such a stark different to both the previous night and this morning. She’d slapped on a bit of lippy and eyeliner, her cheeks flush with colour. He could tell she’d tried to conceal the slash on her cheek with makeup, but it was still faintly visible. She smiled warmly at Gene before introducing herself to the DCI and DI.

“Alex? Oh my, it’s good to meet you,” DI Robert Brentwood said, kissing the back of her hand, “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Clearly the news of Alex’s attack had been making the rounds in every CID in the district.

Alex didn’t seem thrown by the comment, keeping her voice light and carefree, “I couldn’t resist a party.”

“Bet you’re glad your Guv found the bloke, eh? Dreadful business all of this, isn’t it?”

Gene could think of a few more choice words to better describe it than ‘dreadful’. He kept a close eye on Alex as she nodded along with what Robert was saying but kept out of the conversation himself unless spoken to. He’d hoped they would move onto more palatable topics, however Dave begun a story of how he’d nabbed a rapist a few years back, describing the gruesome similarities of the Fred Daniels rapes.

As Gene listened from the side lines, he noticed Alex growing more and more uncomfortable by the chat. The smile had slipped from her face and the grip on her glass was tightening. Realising this probably wasn’t the best conversation to have with a recent rape victim, Gene suddenly butted into the conversion.

“Sorry to intrude, I just remembered I ‘ad to tell DI Drake something. If you’d excuse us.”

Gene placed a hand on the small of Alex’s back and guided her away from the two men until they reached their usual corner of the restaurant.

“You didn’t have anything to tell me, did you?” Alex said knowingly.

“A thank you would’ve sufficed.”

“Thank you. It was starting to get a little much.”

Alex visibly relaxed as she sank into the chair and watched the bustling hubbub of coppers chatting and laughing with each other.

“And thank you for getting him,” Alex added, sipping her non-alcoholic drink, “It was a weight off my shoulders when Shaz told me.”

Gene idly wondered whether anyone had told her about what had happened with him and Fred Daniels before he was taken away. She didn’t mention it and he certainly wasn’t going to bring it up with her.

“No need to thank me, Lady B. We caught him because your psycho mumbo jumbo.”

“Psychological profiling. How many times do I need to tell you?”

Gene knew full well the correct term for it, but it was always fun to wind her up.

“Same difference. But I’ll drink to that,” They chinked glasses, “You look better than this mornin’.”

“I feel different. I suppose I feel a bit of closure,” Alex studied him as though he was a puzzle that was yet to be solved, “You, on the other hand…”

_Oh here we go_ , Gene thought. Alex Drake was far too perceptive for her own good, although that’s what made her a good copper.

“What about me?”

“You look tense. On edge. There’s a look in your eyes. What happened today?”

“Nothin’ ‘appened today. I’m as cool as a bloody cucumber.”

“Bullshit. Something happened. Shaz told me you’d been quiet all afternoon when everyone else was celebrating. Then in you walk this evening and you look like you’d rather be anywhere but here. I thought the Guv loves drinking a few pints after cracking a case?”

“Bit of a different case though, isn’t it? It hits closer to home,” Gene swigged the remainder of his beer, trying to ignore Alex’s eyes boring into him, “Would you stop bloody looking at me, woman?”

“Something’s rattled you, and I’m going to find out what it is. Shall I go ask Ray? He probably knows a lot more than Chris.” Alex made a move to stand and Gene reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding her back. He tried not be disappointed when she flinched slightly.

“Don’t go speak to Ray,” He said softly, looking around the restaurant, “Not ‘ere. I’ll tell you upstairs.”

A look of understanding passed across her face and she nodded. He released her wrist but she remained standing, quirking an eyebrow at him. “I’m feeling tired, shall we head up?”

“Can’t catch a break with you, can I?” Gene glanced at his empty pint and then stood with her. They weaved through the throng of people until they reached the staircase. Heart hammering in his chest, they reached her flat door and unlocked it. Loosening his tie, Gene walked straight over to the sofa and collapsed into it with a long groan. It had been such a long day and he really wasn’t in the mood for a conversation with Drake.

“So,” Alex said, passing him a glass of water, which Gene took with a look of disdain, “You look like shit and I can only presume it’s to do with Fred Daniels. What is it? Did he say something?”

“Oh ‘e said a lot of things. Couldn’t get him to shut up by the end of it.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“I can take an educated guess. Rapists, murderers, muggers. They’re all the same when you get down to it. Once they’ve been caught, they love to gloat. They want to make someone else hurt so they’re not the only ones feeling shit.”

“Nailed it in one, Lady B.”

Alex looked vaguely smug that she’d worked it out, “I won’t ask then, but I’ll tell you this. Whatever that scum of a man said to you, it’s just words. He’ll be locked away for good and I’ll get better. _We’ll_ get better.” Noticing Gene’s surprised look, Alex smiled, “We have something special Gene, and neither of us are ok right now. The nightmares aren’t going to go away overnight and you’re going to need to sort through whatever wrong-placed guilt you’re feeling.”

“It ain’t wrong-placed.”

Alex shot him a withering look, “We’ve been through this already, but I understand where you’re coming from. But we’ll be ok, you and me. We’re a team and we’ll get through this.”

“The Gene Genie will keep those demons away,” He joked, and Alex smiled softly. She reached across the sofa and took his hand in hers. Her fingers were soft as she turning over his hand and brushed her nails across his palms. Gene closed his fingers around hers, squeezing gently. Their eyes burned with unsaid words as the room around them jumped a few degrees.

It would be all too easy for Gene to cup Alex’s face and capture those lips. He imagined holding her, making love to her, waking up every morning to that smile. He shoved his soppy thoughts away, knowing that it was too soon. Alex may never be ready for that again, and Gene wasn’t sure he was ready either. For the moment, Gene needed to be there for her as a friend, as the stable rock to keep her from going any madder than she already was.

Alex seemed to have noticed the change in the atmosphere and she sucked in a shaky breath.

“One day, Gene,” She promised, squeezing his hand in return.

Tonight was not the night for passion or exclamations of undying love. Tonight they were just two friends, helping each other get through the darkest times.

They would battle their demons together. 

FIN


End file.
